should be sleeping...

this is just going to be a jumble of shit.


i was playing some remix version of 'hurt' by nine inch nails in the department tonight and i was enjoying it because i'm a sad bastard.

i walk out of the room into the little hallway and notice a transporter is sitting there taking a break.
i say to him, sorry for playing sad music, dude.

he promptly says that its ok, it doesn't bother him.
i'm in an honest mood and i tell him that i watch people die all day so i feel sad at night sometimes.

he asks me if i was here earlier for the code blue and i reply that that's exactly what i was talking about.

he says that he was in there while they were doing CPR on him when they managed to get a pulse back, a weak one, but a pulse nonetheless.

he says that the man opened his eyes and tried to say something...

i imagine it was to his wife, whom i saw crying in the room.

the man opened his eyes for a brief last moment and then slipped away to whatever was calling him home. he never woke up again.

at this moment me and the transporter share a moment of deep understanding of human suffering and sorrow while trying to express that it's part of our jobs to witness this on a daily basis.

i take this time to walk out to do a portable and i can hear in the background as i walk out these words i hold so dear...

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

i'm afraid of death for many reasons, but a major one is losing yourself.

not ever being me again. 

my thoughts.

 my love.

my mind.

you.

i don't know what i would do without you.

 

sand castle plans

I asked my father if he wanted to go get donuts sometime
he said all I had to do was call him.


wanna do something sometime?

i had an interesting conversation the other night

     I said that everyone liked you.
you said that everyone except me.


I said nothing more after that.


I don't like you because of who you are. and who you'll never be.

you'll never be anything more than what you are and have always been.

I don't like you because you snorted lines off of my car, outside of your house with your friends.

because you get drunk and invite me over only to find you sitting on some other guys lap and going into back rooms with dudes so I have to go fish you out and make sure nothing happens to you, and making everyone in the house want you gone.

because you over do it and your own friends don't want to take care of you so I have to drive you home and leave you in front of your house and hope you don't die over night.

because I had to drive you to get drugs, so you could go to a party at your boyfriends house.

because you have no dreams.

and you're dumb as fuck.

you have a family, but you'd rather not have one.

because you crashed your car while driving drunk and probably on drugs as well.

because you don't really like me at all, you just want the attention from someone who isn't a fuck up like the guys you keep around you.

because you lie.

because you change into whoever you've been hanging out with lately, including their drugs of choice.

because I've watched you do more drugs than I've ever needed to.

because you're you.

that's why.

men

i believe it is important to have strong men in your life. this is what happened to the men in my life. 

My father became a drunken ass and made my mother's life miserable while I was thousands of miles away in japan, unable to come home. So I read e-mails, and listened to crying voices over the phone and carried that around with me while I pretended to be happy with my friends in the times that we had to be young and free. my mother eventually divorced him. My sister was the one to serve him the papers. He was in denial.

My Grandfather, worn down after years of rough living and drinking, gave in one day in February and died. The last time I saw him I was afraid that he didn't recognize me anymore. He was not old enough to be losing his memory. I never got to speak to him as a man, so forever I will be his little parakeet. I was still in Japan when all this happened. I never got to see where he was buried. I carried that around with me and told none of my friends. when I came home I got drunk instead. 

My step father began drinking and then got prostate cancer. He felt weak and started getting paranoid about my mom and where she was going. He would call my sister to make sure she was with my mother, and that they were at the place they said they would be. eventually my mother lost weight and began to look terrible. I'm not sure what exactly happened next because I was away. thousands of miles away. I do remember my mother calling me and trying not to cry so that I wouldn't be worried. there's no way to hide these things. Then they split up and Tim went back home to give up. Tim died far away from here in a manner that he didn't deserve. I never saw him again. 

 My Cousin was killed in the first battles of the new war in Iraq. I felt it before I called home to find out if it was true. Something told me that he wasn't here anymore. It's been eleven years and I never get better. I didn't drink when we hung out together in our youth. now I feel as though i'm trying to make up for it. I was thousands of miles away from where I have always wanted to be since he left. I understand what I have... but I would have given it all up to save him. i'm just not sure if he can handle being away from us, all alone. I hope he's not alone. I went outside to sit on that couch and stared out into the sky until I was allowed to come home for his burial. I don't remember much during that time I spent here. I usually remember everything. 

 I walk around with this in my mind and usually only talk about it when I get drunk. when someone asks about it, I just want to stop. 

I just want to be alone.

I have been alone during the most traumatic experiences of my life. It's no wonder that i'm always trying to leave, or be alone.