Reflection,Respect, and Representation

Wondering, worried about all it is I say and express through the pushing of these buttons.  What do the readers believe that I represent through this the endless thought process, with direct reflection of the world I live in, that dribbles inconsistently from this page. I know that the fact this site has known less than 10 visitors. I should feel no sense of direct threat or compromise in my my daily life from my ranting.  The truth of the matter is my swearing and offending language could make me look no worse than handing out a misspelled business card.  Save me from me from myself.

I must have forgotten.

 I must have forgotten what it was like.  The dark, alone in the woods.  Forgot that the dark isn't as dense in the middle of the path, the feeling when you can just tell that the foilage is thinner overhead than beside, and the inate sense of direction one devolops as learning to rely on other senses to travel through the night.  The city has kept me too long. This I say, even as I spend my time in the country more beautiful than any other home I have ever known. Spoiled yet by the constant roar of the interstate 2 miles away.  That sound, so focusable, so tedious, like the only thing you notice, and is not at all like the woods. The woods are constant as well, forever chirping, forever moving, alive unlike any interstate roar will ever come close to. I remember when it was this life that kept me connected, I was a part of this chaos, the chirping, the snapping of twigs, the waiting and watching looking for the darkness to shift. I was natural, I belonged.  Now the interstate comforts me. I am connected, I  have that undeniable sense of capable. Capable to move, go, get to, and definitely always leave.  That comforts me now, the inscesant chirping of the dark alien to me. I have become like everyone else, comfortable in the light.  Dependent upon it.  No more, I am working in the dark now, I mean the real dark, where it isn't light within minutes drive.  Here, when the artificial is extinguished the steep sides of the hollow block out all but the most intrusive stars and you find black.  Black is where I will learn comfort again, for it is where I am from, and it is where I belong.

Professionalism

Jesus. People expect you to jump through hoops, scale burning buildings and then just drop everything at their beckon and call.  I have touched on professionalism before in this blog and obviously no one I know is reading it.  Employers expect every inch of you to be efficient, prompt, and executable on whatever level they deem necessary while according none of these attributes in return.  So now I find myself still on the job search after graduating in 2007 with my Bachelors of Science, BS is what they call it and BS is about all it is.  The degree hasn't landed me a single interview and all the positions I have been offered have been on the spot and have nothing to do with my degree.  So not only are people not prompt in returning phone calls or emails but when they grace you with one they expect you to be available immediately?!  So the latest was a phone message that went something like this:
" So John this is Joe Blow, received your application a few days ago, errr, weeks ago, and well you are asking for a little too much money but if we can come to an agreement you can start monday the 13th."

I received this message mid-day on friday the 10th from a man I have never even met and have no idea if I would really like to work for him. Yet he thinks I will tell my current employer to shove it and hop on board with a message like that.  All because he finally has some heavy lifting he doesn't want to do by himself.  Hell Blow, had you responded to my application when I submitted it I would have been able to start by the 13th, now you will probably pick up some 18 year old short timer and forget about me.  I guess we will see.

Damn

There hovering, so close, yet so distant with this far away look in her eyes.  Not like she wasn't here exactly, more like she knew exactly where she was, but would have rather have been anywhere else.  The lamplight making the short hairs glow on her hips as she leaned forward allowing me access to further my tender caress only hoping to ignite within her the flame that flickered as if to die inside me.  It once burned so hot and bright but now I am barely warmed by it.  I quickly grew bored and sad at this beautiful waste of God given perfection that is still....hovering,  teasing me with the warmth of our bare skin brushing.  I have a weak moment and think about going for it, knowing it would be mine, but withstand.  I would rather not use.  The far away look would just gain a few more sparkles until it was most likely blocked completely with a need for completion.  I never knew why or where it was she went, I just new it wasn't here with me.  And wherever it was, it wasn't a happy place.  I felt responsible now, like I had created it or at least hadn't saved her from it. It was overdue this saving, my subconscious intention most likely.  Having thought nothing positive from the start. Already running out of words for failure.  We lean on crutches so as not to be forced to walk.  Forever leaning sideways, forever stumbling through the dark.  Unhappy, no.  Feined happiness, most definitely.  We are good in public, people like us, at home borish nothing provoking in the least.  No thoughts of the future, no regrets from the past, just solemn time washing us over and smoothing us to accept the dread fate that is our future together.  A total income of sixty thousand dollars if were lucky, peice of shit cars, and still renting with two kids. 

Hats off to Metro!

Brunch at Metro! in downtown Roanoke was a stelar ordeal.  Having never been there before and with friends from VA Beach about to head back it was the perfect finale to an amazing weekend.   The Crepes of the Day were amazing and the Salmon Cakes as well as the Eggs Norwegian were all sampled and met with great appreciation.  Bloody Marys were stout and spicy like I like them while I could have done without all the flair.   I heard the Mimosas were divine as well.  The restaurant was plush and well decorated and provided us with a wonderful atmosphere.  Service wasn't bad but wasn't entirely pro either but seemed to help the place not seem to austere and uppity.  Two thumbs up on this one.

Taxidermist make more money than me.

So I am looking into this thing :

http://www.varolo.com/village/Walpack

that oddly isn't very accommodating to link to, and why it has fucked my font I won't pretend to understand.  But anyways this thing "Varolo" what have you, seems like a decent thing if only we could figure out how to market it .  I mean hell the shit is free.  I pretend to participate while doing other things in other windows.  You watch an add and get entered to win cash prizes.  Get people to join through you and participate you get dividends.  Granted I will admit you have to get a really large village to make any significant steady income.  I know you are all a bunch of lazy bastards to busy cyber stalking each other through facebook and myspace to participate in something that could generate income, but if you are bored while facebooking do both it can be challenging.  Join my village damnit.

Top Ten Things to See in and Around Roanoke.

Down Town Roanoke:

Market Square

The Grandin Area

Miniature Graceland

Botetourt:

Appalachian Trail

James River Canoing

Rockbridge:

Foam Henge

Safari Park

Devil's Marbleyard

Floyd:

Buffalo Mountain

Sun Records

Myopic Belief

Fairly overshadowed by the myopic foresight of the powers that be,
the ones you see, that lead me to believe,
that all things I need are quickly within reach.
While life entails all that I see, bound around, before, and left behind, rotting to dust.
While all my machines are succumbing to rust.
Recycle I should before they go bust.
I know not for what I always do seek,
 maybe it is, I have all that I need.
Constantly awaiting chock full of greed.
Anxiously annoyed with all that I be.
Maybe someday I will realize,
That already I am,
completely happy.

death dying and slicing and dicing.

I remember when we people died for real, like sabre tooth tiger attacks and defending one's honor in the street.  Now we all just die of this mythical cancer.  Boring.  I want my death to mean something. You know, Blood, Guts, Gore, and Glory.  None of this " I am sorry you have cancer, I must dissect you immediately and then Medicate you to death."  So quick we Americans are to cut out the bad.  I understand the theory, I mean we don't eat the bad spots on a potato or apple we cut them off, But I ain't no damn apple.  So you believe I will have a better quality of life without this portion of my liver, lung, pancreas, breast, mouth, throat, colon, testicle, lymph-node, etc. " Don't worry we can provide a pill that will produce the chemical necessity that the organ in question used to do for you."  ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?  Never before have we been so lucky as to have the medical advancements that enable us to so thoroughly, be able to alter, mimic, and enable you to live a life that resembles the one you used to have.
 So now I come away from the doctor visit I initiated because I couldn't ride a bike up the hill in my neighborhood anymore, that I had ridden up almost daily for the 10 years I have lived here.  I figured I was just getting old, but after a month of not making it up that hill I decided to have a check-up.  I walk out of the doctor's office flummoxed, unable to catch my breath on the way to the car.  Triple Bypass Surgery is what he said. The sooner the better.  Holy shit! I thought I was just aging now I am going to have Heart Failure?  So a month later still sore from my surgery and on a regiment of pills that would could make a tweeker cry, I fall asleep standing up and fall to the floor with a crash.  Mid fucking sentence.  We thought I had fainted and the doc said it could of been due to the medication. Then it happened again, and again.  Now I can't drive much less ride my Harley, my baby, my life.  The doc put me on more pills for the fainting, Narcolepsy, I believe is what they call it.  Bullshit is what I call it.  So now after my complaint of not being able to bike up a steep hill, I can  no longer drive, I can't walk for a mile without thinking I might have a heart attack and die.  Some days I would just rather die than live like this.  I miss not being able to bike up that hill.

Money as always.

So, if I was making half as much money as I am now in a forty hour work-week at a job I have to commute to, doing absolutely nothing, am I losing money?!  I mean I thought my unemployment benefit was extremely sub-par but the difference between having a productive personal life; as in working on my farm, spending time with family and friends, writing, reading, and the occasional odd job to supplement and standing around doing absolutely nothing for $9 an hour is devastating.  At forty hours a week that is only $360, and that is Before Taxes!  $360 a week. Are you shitting me?  I mean I am a MANAGER at a international corporate pizza chain.  Before taxes without bonuses that is only $18,720 a year. Surprisingly, I just read that the federal poverty level is $10,630 a year so I am above that but seriously who can live on these kind of wages and where?  So after I subtract let's say 10% for taxes, which we all know to be more, $4200 for rent, which is way cheap for an annual number,  I am left with a little over $12000.  Now imagine if I had a car payment, children, health insurance, life insurance, any type of social life whatsoever.  I am beyond broke. I have to eat, I have to heat, I have to keep my piece of shit car running and full of gas for the commute.  Now my time is very limited for my much better paying odd jobs, I am stressed over money and have much less time to spend with family and friends.  How is obtaining this job beneficial to me? As far as I can tell it is just one giant pain in my ass.  I miss sleeping in until 10 having a leisurely breakfast and ding about 6 hours worth of work getting paid in cash and not having to share any of it with the government.  Work is so over rated.  Quite possibly the most over rated notion in America.  I don't exactly hate my job.  But I surely don't feel it to be rewarding or productive.  Now I just hope I don't get fat.

O'Reily

Really, Bill O'Reily.  What a fuck tard!  Seriously his reason for God is that the ocean's tides cannot be explained scientifically.  This man has a TV show?  The worst part is that people actually believe this idiot.  There are people that eat and breathe fox news, believe Sarah Palin is a good moral choice for America.  These are the things that sadden me.  The "sheepol" it seems are completely complacent with the way things have been. Fearing change for the possibility that some part of it will affect them.  Scared that they might be asked to do their part. Happy to celebrate their consumer holidays on their specified extended weekends between the monotony of their daily slavery routine. Slaves to money, time, and the demands of all others within their lifetime trying to just share a piece of it.  So, I ask you stop, take a deep breath, think about your future and how you would like to spend it. I hope you would like to join me in doing my part pushing to rid our world of close minded ignorant people and those who honor them with their dutiful service.  Let us take part, bring about change and allow ourselves the one thing that this country was founded on; Freedom.

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Tadaa!

Tuesday of the first week of the year and I have officially earned about fifty bucks for 2011.  That fucking tax man will want 32.50 of it I am sure.  Prosperity where did I leave you? Why do you forsake me?  Now the Assistant Manager at a Dominos Pizza, I wonder when do you throw in the towel and just kill yourself?    Because I obviously spent 9 years in college to make 9 bucks an hour in a Management position in Roanoke.  Really, how in the fuck is that legal?  But a job is a job, but a blow job pays more and takes less time.  So maybe I should just start peddling my ass.  At least there is a recession free market.  So I aim at the sunshine, suck it up and know that before summer starts I will be a making an honest wage and working decent hours.  Otherwise I won't be here.  So if anyone sees, hears, smells any decent work that a dedicated, disenchanted, underwater basket weaver can do, hit me up.  Oh yeah people would have to actually read this bullshit to respond.