Blow My Candle Out

Posted: November 20, 2017 in Uncategorized

For people like me surviving to suffer through another day is a constant battle. We can all tolerate the occasional bad hand, but when you have to constantly navigate this fucked up life working with a shitty hand one tends to draw a line in the sand that once crossed then we know it’s time to fold. I am fucking sick of shitty hands and should have folded years ago. 

So bid me adieu it’s been a shitty ride no one should endure and plans are in place to get off this shitty ride. 


I just came across this quote and it gave me a mild thinkgasim. I consider myself a theologian and I am shocked I have never explored this concept as it pertains to the divine. I asked myself if I were God would I want to take credit for this world and the perpetuating evil conducted by the “men made in his likeness” I would say fuck that blame it on the intern and live to corrupt another day. 

Sitting in my office, jamming to some tunes suddenly from a far I hear feet shuffling on the freshly waxed floor. A smile comes across my face, because I know soon I will see my best friend Dale Brown. 
Through the Taoist point of view Dale had reached the rare state of enlightenment, where he was able to see the world through the eyes of a child. I am aware that this state was partially contributed to his illness, but none of that mattered. The brief moments where we were able to interact was always the highlight of my day. It is amazing how we seem to appreciate things so much more when they are gone.

It was the day before Thanksgiving 2009; I spent most of the day by Dale’s side. His biggest fear was being alone I held his hand, and tried to tell him that he is not alone, and everything is going to be ok. I feared that he was so far in the process that he was not able to hear me.

 Dale had just recently been taken off hospice, so he did not have someone by his side, on this day he seemed more alert then the days before. He had spent most his days just laying in bed, on this day Dale was moved out in the common areas in what I call the “death chair”. I call it this, because the residents who sit in this chair pass soon after.

When the day came to an end, I saw him sitting there, I said my goodbye’s knowing in my head that this would be the last time I would see him. There was so much I wanted to say to him, for some reason it did not come out.

I received the text on Thanksgiving eve that he had passed, looking back there are so many things I wished I would have said. I wish I would have given him a hug, and told him exactly how much he meant to me. I wish I told him he is loved.

I still hear shuffles coming from the hallway; I look up with a smile waiting to see his smiling face. I never see it, it has almost been two months and I still have not talked about it, accepted it, or discussed my feelings.

I did not intend on forming any relationships with the residents I work with.  Dale came into my life at a point where I needed a friend. The conversations we had were delusional, yet very personal. I could be myself, I did not need to hide my disease or who I really was, and neither did he. His smile was infectious and always brightened up my day.

He was here my first day at work, and in my mind I thought he would be here for many years to come. I hate that I never took the time to just sit back, and be mindful of the moment. I am angry and sad that I will never get that chance again. I am regretful I did not let him know the impact he had on my life. I wanted him to know that even in death he will always live on in my heart. Even as I write this my eyes well up in tears, yet I refuse to feel through it. I refuse to accept and let go.

Since his passing my days seem empty, and my heart breaks every time I hear the shuffling, only to look up and see that it isn’t him.

Repost. I still miss Dale, and know he had very few people in his life that cherished and loved him for who he was. I know Dale would pass no judgments on my own mental health. Miss and love you.

There is some debate on which speech was his undoing. I wanted to add this one, personally I believe it is more powerfull than the one I posted earlier. I know I talked that one up quite a bit. 

I normally never do 2 posts in a day but feel this one is relevant enough to add. I also want to say I am proud of myself for being able to write daily again. I appreciate your readership and support.

In my opinion John F Kennedy is the greatest President to ever lead a country, and it is a tragedy he was killed. This is an eye opening speech when you can see how prophetic people can be. 

No one understand that whomever is up there hates me. It’s crazy for anybody to stick their necks out for me, because after all the misery I’ve caused… I’m not worth it. But everyone is so determined to be altruistic. They can’t… Won’t see that. God only knows the pain I am in. My failures to be “sane” is just more blame to be cut into my final tally. 

I have people who loved me, does that not count for something? The first rule of the universe, you watch out for number one. Soft emotions are just what your enemy uses against you. Friends, family… they all end up pawns in this Cosmic game of chess… and the secret to Life Is Knowing When to say “game over.” I don’t need to kill myself, quite soon I’ll be pulled into the negative sphere of my mind… and simply explode. I am already in terminal descent… farewell.

I have seen worlds die, most die by their own star. Some worlds are murdered the clock ticks. What begins must, end the newly-born contain the seeds of their own destruction. Those of us who accept what comes to all we live in freedom and die in grace. For those who fear and deny death, becomes deaths slave. The destructive seed within them turns outward.

They… we… become killers. By accident,  or by intent. Does it really make a difference? We become killers of spirit… then killers of flesh.

I was deaths undying servant I wore a servant’s mask I was above death slave. I was innocent of the murders. I followed a higher order until my orders were lies. This blood now on my hands. I have done this I was deaths herald. I am herald no more. I become death, the destroyer of worlds. 

My mind becoming the mechanism of destruction is unfortunate. Is it more unfortunate for non-human lifeforms to share man’s fate? We mourn their suffering, it will be brief. I mourn your suffering. I will endure… a little longer

I once lived. I once breathed. I felt pain, I lost them just as I have lost everything. 

There is a malignant force where a shadow once was. It isn’t death. Life can withstand death… Life transcends death. Nor does the evil reside in nature, nature is not the foundation. Nature is the movement, the interplay wind, fire, water, sound and fury signifying nothing… it’s only death, and I am not afraid of death. The atrocities I have done, I cannot undo.

We have yet to create a god to change this. I refuse to accept what IS. The will is already accomplished. The malignancy speaks to the masses how a man has butchered paradise. The land stinks with the blood of the murdered, the seas reek of their poisons, their fumes cloud the heavens. The masses confronted with their evil realize if confronted would we allow ourselves to colonize pristine planets. Would you allow us to spread our filth to the stars?

Why are we blinded by our insatiable hunger for greed that glutz itself on the lifeblood of worlds, of monsters who consume and consume until nothing is left. I loathe what we have become our future terrifies me.

I see a society of monsters followed by malignant shadows I know so well. Monsters don’t love as men do, we don’t sacrifice as men do we don’t know beauty or joy or friendship as men do. Our monsters are creatures of Illusion and fear. Fearing love… we hate… fearing death we kill. I am altogether mad yet persuasive. If the weak-willed heard my madness they would call it wisdom as a result lunacy leaps from mind to mind and a whole world tilts towards suicide. 

Mankind is mad this is true but the madness does not come form me If madness is the providence of men alone, then how can I explain my own insanity. I am no different from them. I lost my better nature and became a monsters puppet I have caused great harm. Is it too late to be redeemed?

When our madness finds the keys are actions prolong human torment and our own. We will not suffer for one man to live. We will destroy our creation. If compelled anyone can destroy me, they have that power. The greatest joy is to no longer fear death. When the fear of death diminishes, no one has power over me.

In my heart let me be reborn. Let my mind be purified. Let me bind myself to more than nothing… someone… something not unwillingly as I have… but by choice. 

I am dying like one of the old gods of men whose sacred blood was spilled to perpetuate a better and renewed life. We know sacrifice. Our first born on the altar, there is our human love. They will not thank you… I will suffer in vain

I started this blog almost ten years ago. My ultimate goal has always been to write from my mind and heart with complete honesty. Over the years my writing has produced so many bad outcomes I am left to ponder on whether or not to continue writing. 

When I write I do not hold back, and as a result around two years into this adventure I changed my blog to include a pen name in hopes this will minimize the damage caused. For the most part this worked, but the feedback I would receive was negative. My wife has always worried about our kids or our children’s parents reading my deeply personal musings. This fear caused me to stop writing all together, and my blog just sat out there in limbo. 

Writing has always been cathartic and therapeutic. Ever since I started to have real feelings I slowly began to write again. Last night my wife told me that our 13 year old son and his friends have discoverd and read many posts, and was told my writing has caused my son’s friends parents to not allow their kids to be friends with him.

This was a devastating blow because my intentions are good, and I find it sad that other parents are so judgmental they punish him for the sins of his father. 

It is decision time. As I see it my options are to cease and desist my blog and any future damaging posts, or continue to write from my mind and heart with complete honesty. 

If you are one of my regular readers you know I battle with a mental illness. I am one of the lucky few who have both a mood and personality disorder. One of the many things I need to navigate through a mind lost in chaos and screaming. These feelings can be so overwhelming I resort to self-harm, because my focus becomes the pain quitting my mind for a moment. 

When it comes down to survival where I am my most dangerous enemy a person has to do what a person has to do. 

I have been lost in this forest of despair 

Confused I couldn’t find my way

His voice intensely screaming 

Investing our minds

Maggots on rotting flesh

Sly as a fox

The Pied Pipers soothing songs

Disoriented following around

Thinking of places, faces, and things which do not exist

The hand of the lost

Reaching for the lost

Wrapped in a tiny pill

Trying to pull me out of the darkest regions of this infested mind

Seeing the world through foggy lenses 

Slowly leading me back in line

Should I thank the indoctrination centers for the mentally ill

Should I condemn these pills

Adorning me in sheep’s clothing 

I resent the madness which makes me weak

I resent the pills for stealing my voice… my words

With no intentions of giving them back

The pills are the carrots so close yet the journey is endless 

Replaced with unnerving sanity 

Fuck the universe for fracturing our minds

Fuck the thieving bastards who stole my voice

Fuck these pills full of false hope