Counting the days...

The day is getting closer
The time draws short fast
She thinks I'm not counting
But I am
In my own way.
Her eyes will shine upon me
And she'll see the grin she inspires
...And someone may have to turn a hose on us!

As you might guess by the above snippet of poetry, I have a visitor coming, and I am growing increasingly excited. I have lots of plans, a few surprises, but no expectations. She is who she is, I am who I am and I won't force her into changes she isn't ready for. She knows how I feel about things going on in her life, and I've given my opinion on it, on what she could do. But the choice, whatever it may be, has to be hers. If I push, I'm no better than the people who are already beating her down emotionally. But that aside, fun will be had, old friends met and new ones made while she's here. Who knows, I may even be able to see this old waterfront town freshly through her eyes.

Cages, Questions, and The Hunt

Is it instinct or emotion that makes me chew her cage.
She's stuck in here
It's not right I won't let it stand.
Did I get here and make here mine
Or was she mine before I got here?
We keep pacing, dancing
Nipping, sniffing
Thu hunt goes on

An old lesson re-learned.

I recently did a post on joy, whether it can be counted, measured, tracked and given a number. Well, the jury is still out on that for me, but I did figure out a bit more about what joy is. It isn't always running around screamingly happy or the out loud whoops of joy or running around raising hell with your friends. Though these things can be sources of joy sometimes. Outlets, I guess. But it settled on me tonight that joy is in the simple things. Talking to your girl for even just a few minutes. Watching a favorite TV show, even though you've seen every episode, and still loving it. Playing the video game you just bought, replaying an old favorite. Or just chilling around the pad with an old friend, having a few beers, eating pizza and just letting all the bullshit out their roll on by without touching you. At least, for a night. Ah... Gods bless simple pleasures!

My Nemesis, My Friend

I received a rather prolonged visit from what I have at times referred to as 'an old friend. And honestly, at time's that's true. But often, I think probably more often than not it's more my nemesis than my friend. And this visitor, this force, it's name is Anger. We go way back, anger and me. It was always the first and most common reaction and emotion project at me, through me, upon me, by the Beast-man who was sadly my male role model. So, of course, over time 2 things happened, pretty much in tandom; I began to both loath and imitate this reactionary behavior. You see, what I would eventually piece together as I grew older (and, in theory, wiser) is that The Beast (To be known as such from here on out) didn't understand any emotion, could not process, deal with or project any emotion, other than anger.
And so from this rather volcanic environment, I was born, a man of similar behaviors. Only by The Grace of The Gods, did I not become a mirror of this old generation, bitter, emotionally stunted, angry Beast. But the demon of anger did find a hold in me. I did not become an openly volent miscreant, or a physically violent woman beater or any such. But the anger was always there, bubbling, waiting. And often it seeps out at unexpected times, or boils over in great bursts, and am like Vesuvius, spewing lava everywhere, reeking havoc and destroying all caught in my wake. So in this way, has it been my Nemesis. But also it has been my friend. It has seved me in defending my own life, in portecting friends and in keeping myself and others safe by instinct and that extra edge it can provide. But the sneaky little bastard in it's negative aspect has cost me much. A connection other friends had that passed me by like dust on the wind, friends that the loss of felt like losing limbs, relationships, that if the anger had not shattered may have altered the course of my life.
Anger has popped up here and there, but not majorly for a while. But over the last days it hasn't just raised it's head, it's been a fucking Hydra! Every time I 'cut off it's head', two more of the damnable things grew back! Again and again this happened until at last I found the 'fire' to burn the stumps, remove all the heads and find calm again for a time. But it was a real deluge of suck and I hope to be able to learn to keep it at bay longer and longer. Because I, in point of sad fact, can become emotionally abusive from it, and I don't want to be that douche ever again. I hope to one day bury that lousy Son Of A Bitch for good.