Mr. E – What to do?

Here I sit. 11 PM, and I am considering this a late night. All because the last couple of days have been really taxing on my mind. And now, everything has finally come to meet here. I hate feeling like this. I hate the thought of what I may do next even more. With what feels like my mind has been torn to shreds, I am now just a broken man that can’t stand what his life has become.

I don’t necessarily want to die, but I do want to disappear. So I am struggling with the options of having myself committed, joining a monastary, or something else of this sort. I also think I am going to quit speaking. I really want to fade away into oblivion right now, and I can’t explain why.

I guess I am just tired of being sick and tired. I can’t take knowing that I am just letting everyone around me down. Not being productive enough to keep my life in a constant state of happiness is dragging me into this abyss… and for some reason all I feel like doing is closing my eyes and sinking.

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To The Music That Got Us Through

Music. It’s something that everyone, for the most part, can relate to. I know you have heard this cleche time and time again, “This band changed my life.”

Well, I won’t draw it out longer than it needs to be drawn out. Tonight I am going to see Machine Head open their first U.S. Tour in four years… at Summit music Hall in Denver, CO. I feel like this is something special, as it is also my oldest son’s 16th birthday. When I was 15, Machine Head had changed the way I listened to music. It was when I had my life start to challenge me when I was 16 that it started to really influence me. It was that rebellious sound I needed to get past my teenage angst. They were my gateway metal (next to Fear factory) to what I would remember as the best days of Roadrunner Records. Man, those were the days.

Some of my fondest memories have been going to some sort of a Machine Head show. I remember pulling my buddy out of a fierce circle pit when they hit the main stage at the innagural Ozzfest. He was holding his own until this Godzilla of a man planted a swift forearm to my friends eyebrow. Thus how he earned the nickname through high schoool as Quasimoto. It seemed like they never stopped touring from the tme Burn My Eyes dropped until the finale of The Burning Red days.

Since then, it seems The More Things Change… it has become something I now also share with my new friends. Through The Ashes Of Empires was the beginning of the new era of ‘tradition’, where we look forward to enjoying the sounds of a struggle anyone can relate to. The struggle to dig down deep inside and overcome any of the obsticles life tends to deal out to you. And it has carried us this far, no matter whom our advasary was.

Tonight, 18 years later I go to just enjoy the show. No mosh pits. No getting smashed. Just another night out with the band that has been there as I grew up. Tonight will be homage to The Blood, The Sweat, The Tears… and let it be the beginning to another night of epic metal. Thank you, Rob and Band (past and present), for making metal that seems to strike the soul. Something real in an artificial world of swagger and hooks. Something abrasive, yet accessible. I tip my hat to you and look forward to another fantastic show.

One of your many friends at shows,
Christopher Jack

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Sock Puppets love Bisquick

Okay. I’ll admit it. The only time I like to really sit down and jot down any thoughts seems to be when I am going through some of my worst emotions. I guess I have found that it has gotten harder for me to put it down in words as I have gotten older. I wonder why that is. I used to LOVE writing random rants and poems; filling pages upon pages daily.

It was nice to have a place to go hide from the world. A place where you could let out your inner-most demons with no one to tell you that how you are interpreting these things is wrong or , if you go to the darkest places, quite crazy. The problem I discovered with that is when someone DOES get a hold of your head you never know which way it will go. Some take it as what it is: an outlet. Others will take it very personally, and it has consequences of having to defend yourself from their insecurities.

So I decided instead of having this paper trail of memories and self-realization that I would keep 80% of it in my head and openly express the other 20%. In my worst of times, the scale tends to tip 40/60… and that’s when all Hell seems to break loose. I can’t help that I see the world the way I do. I can’t help that I still believe in Love. The one thing that I am very thankful for, though, is this… I can’t help that deep down inside there is only indifference. A terrible apathy that will only grow worse as I get older.

I still have this strange transgression in writing. When I was just a young mind, realizing that I would rather know WHY we do the things we do. Then it clicked. This is why I had to sit in that room and put together puzzles before I started school. This is why I was able to completely take apart and reassemble a VCR when I was 6 or so. Why I was reading Readers Digest in the Dentists office before I was even in kindergarten. It was all pieces that fall into place… and even though some pieces look the same they will have different shapes.

We all make this picture. We ARE the pieces. There are too many of us looking for the next piece of this grand scheme, thinking it is something other than what it is… US. I could go into more detail how this draws us together on a conscious level, but then we have to start understanding how it comes together before that is even a milestone to cross. For now, do me a favor… seperate the pieces. Don’t focus on the border pieces. It’s that pesky middle area you need to focus on.

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Sky Sailing

I flip these coins that I found in my pocket, Remnants of last night
When we were the only two left in this world, As it all crumbled underneath so many others spite
I watched it all go down, As we called out “Heads” at the top
Wondering what mysteries ‘Tails’ would bring, If we were to sit here in the dark

All my life I was hinkering with no caution, I was not alone here between our lives and the sea
Words strung together to form a timeless potion, We will only fall from these cliffs of majesty

Looking
Outward to see, The sun lingering on the weary horizon
We talk
Hearing only us breathe, Over the crash of the waves upon the broken mizen

Something is wrong with these self indicted notions, Bottled up shadows that may not mean anything
But there must be some kind of message, Made only for our hearts to see,
And the time that slips away from us only holds the value, Of an unyeilding love that has two different stories to be told
I fold my hands and let it be whatever it is to be, knowing all my life until now I have never seen gold

My dreams have been acsertained through doubts and fears, Obsticles that seemed like mountains before I arrived
To find them only to be sand storms in the distance, That whisper to me all that was
And all that couold have been

But those things
That never really came to be,  They are lost in the words you say
And all those dreams
We rallied from underneath, I woke to find my inner child at play

Often I sit and wonder why does this keep happening,
Vicious circles
Always reaping what we’ve sewn
Never reading before we find these meanings
Escaping from my eyes as I feel the markings
Of a language lost so long ago
Just pictures left for us to decide

All this from a simple flip in our thoughts
Assuming it’s a game we all know how to play
There’s a 50/50 chance one of us will get it right
Don’t be afraid to call it how you see it

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Disappropriated delegation of marbles and good ideas

There has been something in my life I have been searching for. IT’s the one thing that I feel has always left me empty inside, even though I have always tried to fill this vessel with as much life as possible at all times. Not the typical filling or toppings you may prefer on our dessert, but still enough to make it quite a unique delicacy. You see, my name is Christopher Jack… and I have been a wanderer that was never lost all my life.

I guess I first noticed that the boy died when I was really young and forced to fend for all I could because I was a runt. I was that goose that would one day try to grow into a duck, only to be let down time and time again. This still holds some truth to this day. All I ever wanted is to find all the pieces to the puzzle. Even though there is only a couple of pieces left, why is it they never seem to fit?

Maybe it’s the way I am looking at the finished product. The mirror only reflect what it wants you to see. I know that when he smiles at me, he is thinking about burning it all down and letting the ashes fly into the sky. Facing the clouds, he wants to let it all rain down on his face while he stands above the cinders and proclaims himself a new man. I walk away content with the life I have tried to build for myself in the wae of all this circumstance.

Does he want to have what he sees on the other side? I know there are most certainly some time I do. I want to burn it all to the ground, and watch the lost scream beneath my feet as I can feel the soothing touch of life fall upon my shattered dreams. All I ever wanted to be, and all I could never hold on to, has defined me more than any practical influence that has been laid upon my dinner plate. Just because I eat it doesn’t mean I like it.

I think it is time for me to remove myself from the eyes of those that want to watch me fall. I need to cross over and see through the eyes of myself when I die. To take this shell of what is still to be and make it represent something glorious. To prove the dawn will break through the blackest night, and that I will rise just as sure as the sun. You can never take what the reflection knows to be the truth, and I can only help you look into the eyes of the one that stands before you. It’s up to you to touch the cold palm of yourself and crossover to the side no one wanted you to know was there….

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If man is mostly water, let’s make Kool-Aid

I’m sitting here and I have this line from a song going through my head, over and over again. There is just so much to it, if you REALLY think about it:

All of us are born to die, some of us are born to kill
If that doesn’t wake you up, I hope tomorrow morning will

I just keep hearing it. And then there is the hook:

Is it my fault, cause I try
Gave it my all, hip hop died
Where do we go now, when it’s over?
I’m looking all around, can this be?
The Aftermath

Only when it says ‘Hip Hop’, I hear ‘Nearly’ in my head. When you sit and think about the time you and I have spent together, what do you think about? Do you see all those reasons we became friends, or does the pain outweigh the blessings? You can’t really rush this. It’s something you have to give a little time to fully realize. I can tell you what I take with me. All of it.

I really like to hold onto the good times. Maybe that’s what always makes it so much harder for me to get past a lot of personal grief. I don’t let it hold me down, usually… but I tend to turn it inward a lot. I just thought you should know that. When I remember the friendship we shared, I remember you.

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Sometimes the Triangle fits in the Circle…

So many things seem to get overlooked when one goes through a moment of self-reflection. You hear all the time how all one had to do to really get a grasp on things was to sit and do a little soul-searching. Reflecting upon all those things that are what make you what you have become. From there, changes can be made accordingly. Yet, most of never really face that demon that stands in front of our progress. That one thing that keeps us from being a Person, and holds us in this state of being Human.

I believe that there is a divine difference between the two; Humans and People. All of us are born Human. A species that was given the gift of life from something that is for another time. Something that has been delivered to figure out what is next. What more it can become… and all this in just a fraction of the time it took to become what we are today. Us in our most basic form of being.Able to comprehend, think, and discover. To reach for new heights. Following our ideas and dreams of a better, more convenient, tomorrow.

A funny thing about Humans is that they like to draw lines to form a controlled reality. It’s clear as night and day, with just a little afternoon in the middle to be enjoyed by all. Black and white, with just that one finger smudge of grey connecting the two across the page. Just enough to make us all believe we are able to blur those lines, and do as we want. And because of the way it is presented to us, it calls for others to step in and try to make yo look the other way while they make those blurs look as if they were there all along. Only this time, there is a hint of death hidden in there, and the smell of patriotism and glory hide it very well.

Then you have those that think they are fighting to forward the species by stirring up the pot. The self-righteous that think their trouble they cause is for the greater good. Causing more fear and terror to be spread, all because they are too stupid to realize they only reinforce the system they are fighting by giving the system a purpose to exist. You give them the power to enforce a police state. To keep them moving forward by holding YOU back. While the majority still sits and watches it all through their televisions. Sitting in the front room, pretending that everything is good in their world. Those of us that are awake know that their smiles are only there because they are laughing at how well they think they are fooling everyone else.

I think finding a place in the smudge to build a life is a good place to start. Death comes in many other colors, and sometimes it can even be the right thing that needs to be done. Instead of being mad because the father steals bread to feed his family, be happy you are eating dinner tonight. If everyone looked at all sides of the Flower Of Life, and realized we are all part of a Unified Field, the father wouldn’t have to steal to begin with. Until we find the next shape and space to fill, we will only keep repeating ourselves forever. Why else do you think everything in your life runs in cycles? Seasons, time, human behaviors, habits, ect…?

I’m just saying…

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