Restraint, I Don’t Have Any

Ah, the wondrous blog, this great window into the depths of Stoneyville. Why am I here, after all? After all this time, still doing my same bullshitstems.

Some distance is growing between the last “real posts” and today, which is a good thing, I think. As we grow up and older, it’s good to take a break to see just how far you have actually come since the last time you checked. I think that’s what’s going on here.

A new balance must be struck, and I am not afraid of finding it. Please check the last post, where Dank video-ed himself taking a dump, as evidence of my willingness to “go there,” if you will.

I’ve also been thinking about words, and about what I’m really doing with my life. I’m reading The Dark Towers, which I mentioned briefly. It’s amazing, despite Stephen King’s “unartistic” style. It’s an amazing story, which doesn’t need fancy words to dress it up or dilute it more. The story is right there, living, so why do you need to use gay words and smart phrasing to get your point across? You don’t.

I’ve painted two canvases in 2 weekends, back to back. I am proud of my painting much more than my stupid gay words and blog, because I get too emotional and messy with my words, and take it into too many directions. With painting, it’s just color, and it seems to be easier to get across what you’re trying to say, without dragging out your terrible insecurities and hangups in the process. In the end, I really don’t want to stew in my shit-stew that I brewed, and when I write, that’s what I do. When I paint, I go there, to the place in my head or whatever, bring it out, and then it’s there, done, finito. It says Hi to me when I look at it, without reminding me of the pain and stuff, even though other people look at it and might see the pain and messed up-ness. For example, after I gave my mom a painting for her birthday, my dad told me I should go see a psychiatrist because I am clearly fragmented and schizo. Perhaps I am, but I’d rather spend that hour painting instead of whining that it’s hard for me to stay organized because I took too much drugs and let go of the merry-go-round when it was going way too fast.

Anyway, dear blog-readers, you legion of faithfulness and support, how you’ve boosted me so when my spirits are low. So many days, I would come to work in such a hole, and just vent all my confusion and energy into a Frontpage document, and then post it up for the world to see, to comment on. I’m a needy little bitch!

The first time I went to the Drawing Room, before I even went home, I went in there bitching and moaning because I had a shitty day, and just felt shitty. This guy there Bill or whatever, he told me to “Shut the fuck up” with my gay whining.

“Don’t ever come to your neighborhood bar and cry about your job.” I never did after that, after my first solo after-work bar mission, he set me straight, and it was all good. Another thing he said to me really sticks out, when I was running my mouth, probably 3 Jack and Coke’s deep, just running my mouth about bullshit.

He said something to the effect of how inexperienced I was, and what a little deuschebag I was acting like. I was like What the hell are you talking about Geezer, when am I going to magically “be a man,” as he said, and turn a corner into Wonderful Manhood. And he said, “You will grow up when you understand what Restraint means.” And he didn’t mean Restraint as in don’t smoke the whole eighth the same day you get it. He meant Restraint in that I knew when to listen and when to talk. To know when you have said your share, and it’s time to do something else instead of running your fucking mouth off for no reason. To not blurt out each ridiculous thought that pops into my head the second it pops into my head.

I guess that’s what I’m doing now, showing some Stoney Restraint up in this gay blog. Is it working? No. I’m still a little bitch! You just don’t hear as much about it I guess, because I’m taking it out on the canvas.

Oh well. After all that, I still didn’t tell you what I started out to tell you, which is “What up, Blog-Homies?”

My blog is dead, my homies have abandoned the good cause, and for what? No worries, though, my own Dark Tower is still driving me to nowhere, and I won’t give up on it. No sir, I won’t give up.


1 Response to “Restraint, I Don’t Have Any”

  1. 1 youandwhosearmy November 25, 2007 at 11:25 am

    randall flagg is the best. i prefer him in the stand though.

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