Written 824 days ago, I barely remember writing it, unthinkable I was on one of my long late night walks:
Through the looking glass
You couldnt find your way home
Its not where you lay your head
But with whom you roam
Pick up the glass and you will see
What life could offer when lived with me
The distorted refractions of light shown through bright
A new reality
the old one dissapears from sight.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The browography of Lucid S. Darqly
Loss of emotion, it seems a dark subject. Through time you learn to deal with numbness or find some way to move on. Some people take things for granted, I was born mostly of Indian heritage, and grew to be somewhat hairy. But at a young age I noticed I was different from other children. While hair seemed in abundance all over my body, it seemed to have missed the mark in a few critical areas. While my sideburns were oddly flourishing, and my goatee a thing to be admired... There was something wrong. Above my eyes, and well below my hairline, was a sad and lonely void, what most people call a brow or forehead, was devoid of any hair whatsoever.
You may stop here, and think, "so what? A child with no eyebrows." but we must look deeper, delve into the very soul of a man, to understand body language, my emotions were lost on people. Even experimental facial recognition software fails to work on me. At the age of 9 my parents decided I would need glasses, I wear them to this day, not to correct my vision but to mask the deformation. Step back and imagine how it feels to not correctly display shock, curiousity or even flirt. This led me to feel ostrisized by the other children, I did learn how to strengthen my other facial features to compensate, I could flex my ears in ways to tilt or raise my glasses to insinuate gesture. Eye doctors experimented with radical ideas, starting simple, placing hair from midwestern hare, a common rabbit, on the top of my glasses frames. This proved to be less than satisfactory, as every time I had to clean my lenses, someone would scream. Next was radical surgery to attempt to remove my sideburns, and stich them to my brow, this proved a faulty process as my brow rejected the hair, every morning I woke to hairloss, until I was back to square one. Finally for years, i dealt with acceptance, living in an emotionless world, I couldn't tell jokes, love was always out of reach, because women believed I just didn't care. As i felt more of an outcast I lashed out. Tattoos, and dreadlocks, I turned myself into a monster, because I already felt I was. Finally one day I realized maybe I can compensate in some way... Cosmetic tattooing is somewhat of an under appreciated artform, but I learned i could easily tattoo eyebrows on.
So the day finally came, I made an appointment with a talented artist. He looked over my face, took measurements and did several stencils before realizing the placement was nearly impossible through traditional means. Time to go back to radical ideas. I head read about a rare practice some poor souls underwent that could not grow moustaches. The fingers were the answer. Thus far I have undergone two lengthy sessions, and will probably need two more for full prosthetic eyebrows. I has to hire a fulltime in home rehabilitation specialist to teach me exactly when to reach up and how to angle my fingers to properly convey the emotion I needed. I still struggle regularly, forgetting when I'm holding something in one hand, I end up unibrow, which usually frightens off potential friends. I was lucky enough to date a girl for a while, that had an odd eyebrow fetish, she would lick the stumps on my face while I stuck my prosthetics places no gentleman should ever mention.
If this was enjoyable, you may want to read on. There have been several stories over the years I've been forced to make up, just to hide my true pain. Here are a few.
The first ever was that I was so moved by Pink Floyd's the wall, I decided to emulate his life. The next was hearing Marilyn Manson say on povitch "kids shave off your eyebrows, and kill your parents"
When aggrevated I'd simply say I lost them in the war, to which I'd always get the same reply "what war? You don't look old enough for any of the major ones" really? Pathetic that was supposed to be my way of saying fuck off, instead they question it further. Just last night I told someone I had a kind viatnamese woman who works downtown, she only charges me .50 an eyebrow to have them waxed. Saying I like the sting of sweat in my eyes when I jog.
When I'm feeling frisky I tell stories of waking to find a note on my pillow. "dear face, we aplogize, but we have left you for a face with more emotion, please don't call,let us find true happiness" rumor has it they joined with hasselhoff and were never seen again.
Another I randomly told, I awoke to find I was covered in blood, I freaked and rushed to the hospital. Upon getting cleaned up, the nurses saw that I wasn't injured, but I was missing my beloved eyebrows. A few hours into the police search my left eyebrow was found crudely shoved in the garbage disposal, and the right couldn't be found. After over three months, FBI found the right eyebrow hiding out in Mexico on a Spanish mans lip, he blended almost perfectly. Upon questioning the only reasoning he gave, was a fit of jealousy, as when I was curious, I always only raised my left brow. He just didn't get enough attention, not to mention in my younger days I had peirced my left eyebrow, making the right feeling plain, all the other eyebrows never noticed him.
I can't convey the emotion(literally) of having to identify my limp eyebrow at the forensic salon, they actually had to take hair samples to be certain,then attend one eyebrows funeral, to turn around months later and have to identify my eyebrow in a lineup of potential hair based criminals, and to sit front row through court cases, and attending when they took out the death sentence.
Alot of men are judged by the job they have, earning a living by the sweat of their brow,but this would blind me in a manner of days, I've been forced to make up stories of severe anxiety, or work in the hvac ac installation field,or deep freezer butcher shops to avoid sweat.
Surely you can see this has been a hard road to travel, but with my new prosthetics I'm learning to cope even joining a group, HA, hairloss anonymous. Most of the other members have very different but empowering stories of their own.
In closing I'd like to remind everyone I'm actually typing this with my brow fingers, I'd give a general knowing glance, or some form of affirmation glance, but my fingers are too busy typing to complete the look.
You may stop here, and think, "so what? A child with no eyebrows." but we must look deeper, delve into the very soul of a man, to understand body language, my emotions were lost on people. Even experimental facial recognition software fails to work on me. At the age of 9 my parents decided I would need glasses, I wear them to this day, not to correct my vision but to mask the deformation. Step back and imagine how it feels to not correctly display shock, curiousity or even flirt. This led me to feel ostrisized by the other children, I did learn how to strengthen my other facial features to compensate, I could flex my ears in ways to tilt or raise my glasses to insinuate gesture. Eye doctors experimented with radical ideas, starting simple, placing hair from midwestern hare, a common rabbit, on the top of my glasses frames. This proved to be less than satisfactory, as every time I had to clean my lenses, someone would scream. Next was radical surgery to attempt to remove my sideburns, and stich them to my brow, this proved a faulty process as my brow rejected the hair, every morning I woke to hairloss, until I was back to square one. Finally for years, i dealt with acceptance, living in an emotionless world, I couldn't tell jokes, love was always out of reach, because women believed I just didn't care. As i felt more of an outcast I lashed out. Tattoos, and dreadlocks, I turned myself into a monster, because I already felt I was. Finally one day I realized maybe I can compensate in some way... Cosmetic tattooing is somewhat of an under appreciated artform, but I learned i could easily tattoo eyebrows on.
So the day finally came, I made an appointment with a talented artist. He looked over my face, took measurements and did several stencils before realizing the placement was nearly impossible through traditional means. Time to go back to radical ideas. I head read about a rare practice some poor souls underwent that could not grow moustaches. The fingers were the answer. Thus far I have undergone two lengthy sessions, and will probably need two more for full prosthetic eyebrows. I has to hire a fulltime in home rehabilitation specialist to teach me exactly when to reach up and how to angle my fingers to properly convey the emotion I needed. I still struggle regularly, forgetting when I'm holding something in one hand, I end up unibrow, which usually frightens off potential friends. I was lucky enough to date a girl for a while, that had an odd eyebrow fetish, she would lick the stumps on my face while I stuck my prosthetics places no gentleman should ever mention.
If this was enjoyable, you may want to read on. There have been several stories over the years I've been forced to make up, just to hide my true pain. Here are a few.
The first ever was that I was so moved by Pink Floyd's the wall, I decided to emulate his life. The next was hearing Marilyn Manson say on povitch "kids shave off your eyebrows, and kill your parents"
When aggrevated I'd simply say I lost them in the war, to which I'd always get the same reply "what war? You don't look old enough for any of the major ones" really? Pathetic that was supposed to be my way of saying fuck off, instead they question it further. Just last night I told someone I had a kind viatnamese woman who works downtown, she only charges me .50 an eyebrow to have them waxed. Saying I like the sting of sweat in my eyes when I jog.
When I'm feeling frisky I tell stories of waking to find a note on my pillow. "dear face, we aplogize, but we have left you for a face with more emotion, please don't call,let us find true happiness" rumor has it they joined with hasselhoff and were never seen again.
Another I randomly told, I awoke to find I was covered in blood, I freaked and rushed to the hospital. Upon getting cleaned up, the nurses saw that I wasn't injured, but I was missing my beloved eyebrows. A few hours into the police search my left eyebrow was found crudely shoved in the garbage disposal, and the right couldn't be found. After over three months, FBI found the right eyebrow hiding out in Mexico on a Spanish mans lip, he blended almost perfectly. Upon questioning the only reasoning he gave, was a fit of jealousy, as when I was curious, I always only raised my left brow. He just didn't get enough attention, not to mention in my younger days I had peirced my left eyebrow, making the right feeling plain, all the other eyebrows never noticed him.
I can't convey the emotion(literally) of having to identify my limp eyebrow at the forensic salon, they actually had to take hair samples to be certain,then attend one eyebrows funeral, to turn around months later and have to identify my eyebrow in a lineup of potential hair based criminals, and to sit front row through court cases, and attending when they took out the death sentence.
Alot of men are judged by the job they have, earning a living by the sweat of their brow,but this would blind me in a manner of days, I've been forced to make up stories of severe anxiety, or work in the hvac ac installation field,or deep freezer butcher shops to avoid sweat.
Surely you can see this has been a hard road to travel, but with my new prosthetics I'm learning to cope even joining a group, HA, hairloss anonymous. Most of the other members have very different but empowering stories of their own.
In closing I'd like to remind everyone I'm actually typing this with my brow fingers, I'd give a general knowing glance, or some form of affirmation glance, but my fingers are too busy typing to complete the look.
So it's out there.
I guess people may actually be reading this now. It won't change how I share my thoughts. I'm eternally open about how I feel, I don't share these things with many people in person, because I assume they don't care.
Only a couple exceptions have been made, that I showed people this or that i opened up much about my feelings recently. Even of those two, one showed they didn't care, by giving up when I needed them most.
So here we are the writer and the reader, face to face in a way. I use my iPod usually to write here, so I can't comment on my posts, but I guess if you have anything to say about any of this there is a comment section.
Aside from that I'll not know you're ever here, and just continue writing everything. I skip over the good parts from time to time, but all the bad things make it here. Names won't be mentioned and people won't be affected... Other than me.
What you'll probably read over the next few days is very hard to write about. I didn't get to see my kids for summer, there were a few reasons for that, maybe I should get it off my chest already. I'm going to be forced to watch my mother break down, day by day, until she's sick enough to commit, that'll be a good read. I'm going to miss my own dr appointment because now I won't be able to afford it. Maybe I can document mental breakdown number 3(I wasn't blogging during the 1st one). Maybe I'll keep moving forward and find the strength to repair this broken man, maybe.
Only a couple exceptions have been made, that I showed people this or that i opened up much about my feelings recently. Even of those two, one showed they didn't care, by giving up when I needed them most.
So here we are the writer and the reader, face to face in a way. I use my iPod usually to write here, so I can't comment on my posts, but I guess if you have anything to say about any of this there is a comment section.
Aside from that I'll not know you're ever here, and just continue writing everything. I skip over the good parts from time to time, but all the bad things make it here. Names won't be mentioned and people won't be affected... Other than me.
What you'll probably read over the next few days is very hard to write about. I didn't get to see my kids for summer, there were a few reasons for that, maybe I should get it off my chest already. I'm going to be forced to watch my mother break down, day by day, until she's sick enough to commit, that'll be a good read. I'm going to miss my own dr appointment because now I won't be able to afford it. Maybe I can document mental breakdown number 3(I wasn't blogging during the 1st one). Maybe I'll keep moving forward and find the strength to repair this broken man, maybe.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Creature
Something I wrote 473 days ago, attempted putting it to music but was never satisfied with the result:
She ,she comes from another place
A place that knows no sleep
She comes from the deep
I hear her calling me, her siren song
It's drawing me,and I know it won't be long.
The sounds hit my ears, and wash away my fears
Like a willing trip to hell, I've fallen for her spell
She's snared me in, has me in her grasp
Now fight for life, for air I have to gasp
All creatures of myth and legend
Are not fully based on deception
Some are founded in on our reality
This such creature is always haunting me
This is not just the sirens befalling
It seems to be every womans calling
Once They have lured you in
Youre Never to be heard from again
She ,she comes from another place
A place that knows no sleep
She comes from the deep
I hear her calling me, her siren song
It's drawing me,and I know it won't be long.
The sounds hit my ears, and wash away my fears
Like a willing trip to hell, I've fallen for her spell
She's snared me in, has me in her grasp
Now fight for life, for air I have to gasp
All creatures of myth and legend
Are not fully based on deception
Some are founded in on our reality
This such creature is always haunting me
This is not just the sirens befalling
It seems to be every womans calling
Once They have lured you in
Youre Never to be heard from again
Signing off.
This is me giving in. This is me giving up.
After all I went through in July, and after the initial meltdown I was stronger than ever, but now I'm done.
The harder I try, the more the universe screws me over. Now I have to deal with my mothers mental illness again, and the very real possibility of becoming homeless. She gambled away her entire paycheck, didn't pay bills and didn't refill her medications. Our lease is up in a few weeks, and we were supposed to move. Within a few days she will probably spiral down until the point of being committed for the second time this year. Her job gets less tolerant of it everytime and doesn't really understand the full situation.
After deaths, divorce, loss of children, attempted suicide, loss of love and a meltdown in July. This is what gets me. Signing off.
After all I went through in July, and after the initial meltdown I was stronger than ever, but now I'm done.
The harder I try, the more the universe screws me over. Now I have to deal with my mothers mental illness again, and the very real possibility of becoming homeless. She gambled away her entire paycheck, didn't pay bills and didn't refill her medications. Our lease is up in a few weeks, and we were supposed to move. Within a few days she will probably spiral down until the point of being committed for the second time this year. Her job gets less tolerant of it everytime and doesn't really understand the full situation.
After deaths, divorce, loss of children, attempted suicide, loss of love and a meltdown in July. This is what gets me. Signing off.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
A return to me
Obviously I've had a great week, or you would have heard about it here. I still feel the need however to fill you in. I've been approached about 3 new music projects that garner my interest, and a couple others that just sound fun to tinker with.
I have two photoshoots booked this week, and my ex wants to get back into booking me shoots for profit, hard to say no to cash from time to time.
I guess the main reason I feel the need to write tonight, is because the stronger I grow, and the better I feel, the more lonely I become. I sat at a dear friends birthday party last night, and as girl after girl approached me, I couldn't even pretend to be interested. One person has a monopoly on my thoughts, and I fear on my heart. It should be a joyous occasion that I actually like someone, but it seems to be unrequited. I'm not sure what to do with that, but I am certain that if I can't have her, I won't settle this time. I'd rather be lonely and work too much to keep my thoughts at bay, than be with someone I don't want to be with merely because they want me. I can't even remember the last time I had a crush on someone, I always get chased. At least there is some peace in knowing I won't do something foolish with someone I don't care for, I just wish I knew how she felt, I know at one point she liked me, and I was honest that I have feelings for her.
I return to my work, healthier than I've been in years, and more confused than I've been in years... Ahh the joys of life.
I have two photoshoots booked this week, and my ex wants to get back into booking me shoots for profit, hard to say no to cash from time to time.
I guess the main reason I feel the need to write tonight, is because the stronger I grow, and the better I feel, the more lonely I become. I sat at a dear friends birthday party last night, and as girl after girl approached me, I couldn't even pretend to be interested. One person has a monopoly on my thoughts, and I fear on my heart. It should be a joyous occasion that I actually like someone, but it seems to be unrequited. I'm not sure what to do with that, but I am certain that if I can't have her, I won't settle this time. I'd rather be lonely and work too much to keep my thoughts at bay, than be with someone I don't want to be with merely because they want me. I can't even remember the last time I had a crush on someone, I always get chased. At least there is some peace in knowing I won't do something foolish with someone I don't care for, I just wish I knew how she felt, I know at one point she liked me, and I was honest that I have feelings for her.
I return to my work, healthier than I've been in years, and more confused than I've been in years... Ahh the joys of life.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Just a day.
Spent half the day watching photography tutorials... Always important to keep learning new techniques. Excited about our video projects, now that we are working with a new cameraman, his camera actually detects my bluescreen good enough that we can use chroma key. Bluescreen opens up a world of possibility.
Starting to get some direction on a spoken word piece I'm writing music for, once that's done it'll be a video, so I'm trying to conceptualize where to take the footage.
My increase in exercise is starting to speed up my metabolism which is good, but it's also increasing my appetite. If I had something more important to say about my personal life, I wouldve put it right there. It's actually calming to feel my life calm down.
Skipped out on movie night with the people we will be filming with, but I wish I wouldve went, I thought it'd be a few people crammed in an apartment... Apparently it was 25 people in a reserved theater. Lesson learned, I won't be skipping movie night again.
Starting to get some direction on a spoken word piece I'm writing music for, once that's done it'll be a video, so I'm trying to conceptualize where to take the footage.
My increase in exercise is starting to speed up my metabolism which is good, but it's also increasing my appetite. If I had something more important to say about my personal life, I wouldve put it right there. It's actually calming to feel my life calm down.
Skipped out on movie night with the people we will be filming with, but I wish I wouldve went, I thought it'd be a few people crammed in an apartment... Apparently it was 25 people in a reserved theater. Lesson learned, I won't be skipping movie night again.
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