<$BlogRSDURL$> The Truth About David
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The Truth About David
Monday, July 4

Oh yeah!!!

Road muthafucking trip!

I love me some road trips. I love to drive and see new things. Hang out in world-worn diners and truck stops. It's been awhile since I went on one and it wasn't under good circumstances. But not this trip! We are heading to my sweetie's dad's 60th birthday party.

They have no idea we are coming.

I am very excited.

I hope the thrill will be worth the energy spent getting there on time. I've been on cross country road trips many times but never up north. Those are the 'red' states and I am very brown and a liberal.

Sounds stupid but racism and hate crimes are still around people: believe that shit.

Anyway...I think this trip will be good for us. I am happy doing nothing, content at least, but my sweetie is sensitive and very much affected by her surroundings. I think she will greatly enjoy this adventure. I will try and make it special.

Considering Vicodin makes my eyes blurry, so I can't take any when I'm driving, it will be a considerable task.

But I hope the fun will dull the pain.


I'm sick of pain; enough with the pain already.
Time to get this bitch popping!

thrown together by
David Lee I Be around 7:47 PM
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This whole thing

I find it strange, this whole bloging thing.

I mean I read a lot of blogs. Funny, sad, frivolous-there is a type for and about anyone. But where is the line? What do I write? When should I stop?

believe it or not, I am a very private person.

"Bullshit" you say. Alas, I speak truth my small but faithful readership. I am private and solitary and distant. My friends all know it; we all feel it when we are together. It's a strange and unsettling vibe. Most especially because it's my fault. I'm the guy in the dark. It's my arm that remains outstretched like pike against invading infantry.

It's usually my fault, but latter for that.

What really gets to me is the why of bloging. Most especially now that I live with a blogger. A blogger who is a heartbeat away from making a second blog. To hide away the feelings little David can't handle.

Or that's how I feel.

So it begs that question: why bother? I'm no special writer. I respect my readers, I think of them as bloging friends (if there is such a thing). However, I think they would get by without reading this messy concoction of thoughts.

So why do I do it?

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself. Not to mention the fact that I've bloged about these feeling a few times before. All that means is that the question remains unanswered. Creaking in my mind like marbles in the attic.

I think it's rage.

I cage it up and tame it. I want to unleash it, unabridged, in this place. Set it free. Morph my pent up anger into a written scud missile and direct it towards the people who trample on what's left of my patience. Taking what I offer yet still making a fuss over the bullshit they don't like. I should unleash the core version of this, pure and precise in it's conviction, to sing my song of woe.

But I hold back.

So I keep asking the same question and absorbing the silence in answer. That is the sign of the fool. So what?

Just one of my many hats....

thrown together by
David Lee I Be around 7:00 PM
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Sure, I'm sure

Hello again.

I'm back to make things worse. To highlight the little things that hang on my back like weighs over water. A stab at writing to take a stab at life. Both of which seem to trip me up and make me mad.

Yes, yes-the circus is in town.

Pissed off a lot. Angry that I have to drag the lion back to den all by myself. Furious that a presumption of my tolerance for the dark side is in question.

Be ungrateful. Be upset. Be indignant.

Fine.

Just man up. Put your fists to your face when you plan to throw a punch. I'm no punk bitch to pussy footed about in the shadow of his own realm. I've been privy to every single thing.

Mean and nasty things.

You see I've 'grown up'. I know how to 'be a man'. I have my 'shit straight'. I'm not embarrassed by what's 'down there'. I got the cash. I pay my bills. I'm self-sufficient.

My heart has been broken, choked, stomped and left for dead.

I'm not tough guy. I'm just tough enough to be the guy who gets shit done. Don't like that? Don't like me or me talk? My 'rules'?

Hit the highway.

Until then: I'm going to keep talking this shit and doing my thing. Stay tuned.

thrown together by
David Lee I Be around 6:37 PM
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A hundred eyes

All of them hiding and filled with regret.

Most of them glazed and fixed on prizes too lazy to capture; the dirty ideals of million flashes of corporate propaganda. The sickness growing in the irises of malcontent is repugnant to me. I bulk from the gazes of people of would just as soon smash in the face-if only to make them feel something real.

So keep dancing pretenders.

I'll be here to watch and catalog your foolhardy attempts at drama and love. I'll stand around waiting to hear the one good thing you ever say. I will stay it to myself.

I see a hundred eyes
made under the dark cloud sky
No one to tell how
all things to show me why
These faces here lost
some most like many others
I see hundred eyes
Lovers, sisters, brothers



What!? I'm no fucking poet.

thrown together by
David Lee I Be around 6:21 PM
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