It Is What It Is…

You ask any parent of a special needs child and a common thread you will find among them is the explanation as to why their children are the way they are: it is what it is.

Far gone are the days when they stopped blaming themselves, or each other.  Far gone are the days when they used to try and rationalize why their child isn’t like Jimmy next door.  They’ve heard the theories-is it a conspiracy, genetics perhaps-all of these are folly to them anymore.

An autism parent hearing, I don’t know how you do it, is not a fucking compliment! What that tells us is that you really don’t like it when our kids are around.  

Family functions?  Oh, you can forget about sitting down and relaxing and having a good old adult conversation!  It seems like the smallest of things attracts an autistic child’s mind.

Earlier this week, we went to my sister’s house for supper.  We were outside smoking and she asked if I thought my youngest is on the spectrum.  To be honest, yes, I do.  He has all the hallmarks of an autistic child.

Another child that can’t say his own name.  Another child that can’t talk, or potty train as easy.  And while daddy is still his hero, he still can’t say, “I love you, daddy!”

I have a lot to be thankful for, I know.  And I know that there are people out there that have it far worse than I do.  But the only way I can quantify it in my mind, the ONLY way I can relieve some of the guilt and stress, is by simply acknowledging that it is what it is.

Tomorrow is another day…

-Graveyard Night

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Selfish Poison

I think man is inherently bent towards evil.  We bitch and complain about the corruption and malice in the world, when we are no different.  It is a conscious act of the will and the mind to be good.

I am not a philosopher or anything like that-I am just another human with an opinion.  And at the end of the day, I guess that is all I have.

I have tried to be a selfless person; giving of my time, mind and body to others.  Jesus taught that to be first, you must last.  But when does being “last” transition from being a leader to being taken advantage of?

Yesterday, I got woke up, in regular fashion, of being yelled at and having my wife kick the bed.  A wonderful way to start out your morning, huh?  I have been woke up so many times this way, it even surprises me that I still get pissed.

One thing led to another, and soon, it was a verbal slug-fest!  But out of all of this, one thing still remains with me: I was told that I am a selfish person.  Why?  Because I buy myself things when I get paid.  It’s never anything costly or huge, just little things-like a shirt, boxer shorts, ten-dollar headphones.

But because I reward myself with something small when I get paid, I am selfish.  And the “ugly ass” green dress I bought her the other day doesn’t suffice.  Hearing that, my heart broke.

I have tried to be the best man I can be, the best husband, father, brother, son-you name it.  And I feel like I have failed.  Miserably.

It’s true, we cannot rely on others to make us happy, however, there are external forces that dictate our moods.  The next time you put someone down, watch their mannerisms; you can practically see their self-esteem dwindle down to nothing.  All day today, I have put myself down.  Putting yourself down is a dirty job, but hey, someone has to do it.

Wherever you are, I hope you have a wonderful day.

Graveyard Night

My Thought On the Day: Bullies

Now, I want to begin this by saying that no one is perfect.  We have all slipped up and said something that has hurt someone’s feelings.  And even though we don’t like to admit it, we have all been sucked into that treacherous vacuum called gossip. 

This not what I would call a bully.  This is human nature.  Unless, of course, you gossip to hurt someone’s feelings.  Then you are a bully by default.

No, I am talking about the ones that say they are a bitch or an asshole because they think they possess the right.  I am talking about the cowards that cause physical harm, put people down, or are just downright nasty.  You do this because of fear, ignorance and insecurity.  You do this because it makes you feel empowered-makes you feel better about yourself.

Here in the United States, it is expected that one person will have a completely different belief system than another.  That is what makes us, as what John F. Kennedy called, a free and open society.  

But I’m not talking about people with religious beliefs, political beliefs (these are protected under the First Amendment for ALL belief systems), I am talking about the everyday nasty people!  The fucking cowards!  

Do you know what a bully is?  A complete and total waste of oxygen!  They are a living desgrace to mankind!  What a bully needs to do is go to the hardware store, buy some rope to tie a noose, find a tall tree with a big, sturdy limb, and hang themselves from it!  Sure there will be people that will miss you that share your same twisted view.

However, in the long run, the world will be a much better place once you cease to exist!

Graveyard Night

Rambling Thoughts

Why is it everytime I go to post an ad on Craig’s List-whether it is for a woman to suck my pecker (by the way, I think that the word cock is best reserved for men that are truly well endowed), talk to someone on Kik, or if I am trying to find a couple willing to let me watch them have sex-all I get is spam!

It is incredibly frustrating!  And they are all the same: a horny, lonely wife, emails rife with misspelling, etc.

In a city of about 10,000 people, you cannot tell me that there hasn’t been at least one woman that hasn’t seen an ad I have posted.  And I am not necessarily looking for just sex.  It’s the conversation, the learning and meeting new people, that I crave!  I get a thrill of excitement when I see I have a new conversation request on Kik.

Last night, I was at the store after work looking to buy some wine, and wouldn’t you know it!  They didn’t have the kind I buy!  I am not exactly a wine connoisseur, so I walked away empty handed.  In fact, I am pretty much a novice when it comes to wine.

Anyway, there was a nice looking woman there with me and we were talking about wine.  I am almost certain she was flirting with me.  But, hell!  I am a guy and most men think that if a woman pays them just one minute of attention, the woman must be into them.  Now, I try not to be a judgemental person, but this woman struck me as the type to be a little on the easy side.  

I tell you, people, I was standing there, checking out this woman’s rounded, well-proportioned ass, and I was tempted to ask permission to grab it!  Don’t scoff at me when you read that.  I said that I was tempted to.  And anyway, at least I would have done the gentlemanly thing and asked permission.

Have you ever seen an attractive couple and wondered if they have a spectacular, raunchy sex life?  They walk and laugh together, hold hands.  They seem so carefree in life.  

Living in a town of about 10,000 people, I have often wondered how many couples were into swinging.  Often times, I lay awake in bed at night and wonder how many men are sitting in a corner chair, stroking his pud while another man was busy pleasuring his wife.

Yes, that is my ad.

Does the swinger’s lifestyle interest me because I have unresolved issues in my marriage?  Does any other man feel the monotany of matrimony?  Would finding another couple to have sex with actually make me feel better?  Or, would it pull me down further the rabbit hole?  Is it a combination of marital problems and the fact that my wife has virtually let herself go?

After spending years of watching porn, it is one of my darkest desires to see it play out before me.  But such is the life of the Caretaker-a life of pipe dreams and fantasies.  

The sun has risen and is shining it’s brilliant rays down on the snow.  Headstones with faded markers protrude from the fine powder.  God’s dandruff, I call it.  I hear the wrought iron gates squeal.  It seems I have some visitors.  

I’ll see you around.

-Graveyard Night

This Fucking Hurts

Here I am, mired in emotional anguish.  Just got off the phone with my mom and she told me to go to a doctor and get put on some meds.  I tell you, I am this damn close to admitting myself to a psychiatric hospital.
I told her that meds don’t help.  There is no easy band aid for emotional pain.  No stitches, no staples, no glue.  Nothing.  Not a fucking thing!

Found out today that the other woman removed me from her friends list on Facebook.  After all the crooked shit I have done, this hurts the most.  It feels like I am fifteen all over again and lost my first girlfriend.  It feels like there is a gigantic hole in my chest where my once beating heart use to be.

My wife never listened to me.  But now she is ready to?   Too late.  I have taken back the heart I gave her and locked it away in a cluttered and cavernous vault.  I’m not even certain that I could find it.

I wish that could take hard rock music

Play it as loud as it will go

Drown out my thoughts

Drown out my sorrow

Now, I see why people get sucked into extramaraital affairs so easily.  They are looking for acceptance, if only for a little while; someone that isn’t going to nitpick every little thing they do wrong-someone to numb the pain.

-Graveyard Night

Impulsive Kisser

Have you ever met someone that, for whatever reason, you were drawn to them?  You were drawn to them sexually, romantically (if sexually and romantically are not the same things), and-I guess-there was still another component that drew you to them.  That last one is difficult to put a finger on.

When fate decides to grace you with her presence, there’s a certain pep in your step, your heart flutters, and God forbid you bust an erection in front of her.

The woman I am talking about is eighteen to my thirty-two.  She’s about my height, dark skinned, and has one of the most sweetest, kindest smiles I have ever seen.  Around strangers, or at least those who don’t know me well, I am pretty good at hiding my depression and what-not.  But I wonder if I am very crafty at hiding the raging emotions I experience everytime she is around?

I think she likes.  Well, she at least says she likes working with me; which isn’t all that often.  But when she does, I get lost in her dark, nearly black eyes.  She walks close to me whenever we walk side-by-side, and I have to fight with everything I have to not pull her close to me and see where my actions take us.

But this is all fantasy.  Or, is it…

Graveyard Night