4AM Cat's Tongue or Rubbed Raw

There's nothing like being woken up to someone sand-papering your face -- especially if you already have insomnia and, thus, can't get back to sleep. I am reminded of a story.

Somewhere between first and third grade I had a classmate with whom I would frequently visit. Our mothers knew each other so they would sometimes visit as well. Apparently, this girl's mother did not want her to be wearing make-up and it was a BIG "NO-NO." Being a tom-boy, I did not see the issue this presented to my friend but whatever...she was obsessed with it. That was when she decided to try some cosmetics on me and the horror began.

At first it wasn't so bad but then she heard her mother in the other room and became extremely paranoid so she decided to wash it off me. The problem began when she determined that she couldn't get enough of it off me and that her deceitfulness was going to be discovered. There was something red about my left cheek so she rubbed...and she rubbed...and she rubbed...etc.

My cheek was very sore and I'm sure her mother noticed because the next day I woke up the left side of my face was all gooey, raw, and pink. A day later the wound began to turn into a nice brownish 3 x 3 inch scab and the interrogations at school and home began.

I tried to explain to the teachers, and everyone, that a girl had, matter-of-factly, simply rubbed the hyde off my face. Apparently, this caused allot of confusion, commotion, and I tired of it quickly so I began to lie to them. When one kid's mother asked me what had happened, I told her that "I got into a fight and you should see the other guy. Grrrrrrrrr!!!!" That was my reason and from then on, somewhere between my under-developed frame and the growling, and no more questions ensued.

The big question here is why did I let the hyde be rubbed off my cheek in the first place? I suppose I felt the fear of her mother's wrath and sympathized with the girl and also had too much of the victim mentality by then. In any event, it makes for a good party story.

Prologue: I did try to go back to sleep by using some techniques taught to me by a therapist but the wetness of cat #2's nose bamming me in the face made such impossible. So this time, I'm waiting for a Klonopin to kick in and then I am going to completely cover myself with blankets.

The Horror Of Darkness

Kurtz: I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen.... but you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face.*

2:44am

with a thin t-shirt, I stuff into my mouth to bite down the screams of terror screeching up from the bottom of my acidic stomach, i crawl under a warm blanket to escape the chill which won't go away. what to do when the hauntings wrench your gut with such an agony that you can hardly breathe, even more want to. it follows you, the trauma follows you, and effects every moment of your life whether asleep or awake. those with whom you've had chances with are lost. you've been robbed. the list of possessions is too long to recoup and there is no insurance for such.

you walk through the day with your brain in a different mode from others. you've seen things, heard things, smelled things, felt things that should not have been consumed by any senses. it makes you different. you are a freak now. it builds a wall around you so that when you manage to break through no one knows quite what to do with you. people expect things of you but you can't figure out what, their voices blurring together like drugged fogs. you are supposed to be one thing but you are really another but no one knows or cares to know. it's too hard to know.

they find out what is important to you and they take it away. senseless acts of evil sneaking into a simple human body. threats keep you quiet and in your place. to the clueless, you look normal if you are able to walk around by day instead of holed up in a blanket.

Willard: Someday this war's gonna end. That'd be just fine with the boys on the boat. They weren't looking for anything more than a way home. Trouble is, I'd been back there, and I knew that it just didn't exist anymore. *

[quoting Kurtz]
Willard: In a war there are many moments for compassion and tender action. There are many moments for ruthless action - what is often called ruthless - what may in many circumstances be only clarity, seeing clearly what there is to be done and doing it, directly, quickly, awake, looking at it. *

*Apocalypse Now, 1979

Finding That Which Was Lost

"...And when she hath found it, she calleth her friends and her neighbours together, saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost.”"

Awake at 3am is not a good sign.

The entire St. Louis region has been glued to the TV astounded by the discovery of two missing boys. That fact that one was found was amazing but that two were found is beyond belief -- yet it happened. I remember clearly the picture of the bicycle from which the older boy had seemingly vanished into thin air over four years ago. Almost an evil blessing that it took one lost child to find another.

It has to take threats to get a child into a car and keep him for any length of time. Threats can be hard to recover from. The longer you live with them the more they change you. Like toxins, they poison your world and shape it into something unrecognizable and seemingly unbearable.

The trauma is haunting but there is no exorcism for it. I've had trauma and have searched every known avenue seeking resolution. Lately, the disillusionment that I would free myself has become too clear and the darkness of it is blinding.

Vividly, I recall living trapped in a house of torture where there was no escape. Threats of terror if I were to leave or tell burdened me heavily. I did not want anyone to get hurt.

Strange that even though the threat of violence is gone I still feel trapped in a house burdened by the misery of others and myself. If I could pack up and leave the sense of hopelessness and doom behind then I surely would but since I've done that once already I know that it would not work. My brooding haunted self will follow.

I hope that the boys get past the shock, the senseless self-blame and shame that replace the utter helplessness, the rage that surely should follow, and find peace. I hope we all do. Finding something lost is a good thing.

Missing Child

newslink

Amber Alert Issued for Ben Ownby
Last Seen: Monday, January 8, 2007 around 3:30 p.m.
Beaufort, MO (Franklin County)

Name: William " Ben" Ownby (male)
Age: 13
Height: 4 foot 10
Weight: 100 lbs.
Other: brown hair, blue eyes, last seen wearing a St. Louis Rams windbreaker and blue jeans. He was also wearing glasses.

Disappearance synopsis:
Officials say William "Ben" Ownby was last seen after he exited his school bus near his home on Burth Lane and Highway 50 in Franklin County, Mo.
Investigators believe Ben may have been abducted by someone driving a truck described as a white, possibly Nissan pickup truck with a camper shell and large rust spots. A witness said he saw a truck speed from the area after he and Ben split up.

Contact Information: If you have any information, please call:

Franklin County Sheriff's Department: 636-583-2567
911

Funds, Family Assistance

Ben Ownby Benefit Fund
A benefit fund has been established for the family of Ben Ownby to assist them while they search for Ben.
Donations can be made payable to:
Union Area Chamber of Commerce: Ownby Family Benefit
103 South Oak Street/P.O. Box 168
Union, MO 63084
Phone: 636-583-2555
www.unionmochamber.org
Donations can be made in person.

Find Ben Reward Fund
A reward fund has been established to raise money to offer as a reward for information leading to the safe return of Ben Ownby.
Dontations can be made payable to:
Union Bank Of Missouri
103 South Oak Street/P.O. Box 168
Union, MO 63084
Phone: 636-583-2555

Step Four: The Decision

"the world is silent, the clocks have stopped again.

i can see the ship that sailed has sunk to the bottom of the sea. I burn. My heart beats the tune that this is no fantasy, this is real. This is when you become dizzy with hate."*

I can't describe the mysterious world I seek as it seems I have not yet arrived. I can only search vehemently and learn from others. Only can I HOPE for Frankie's enlightenment:

::Sweating nervously in an AA meeting::

"My name is Frankie. And I am a violent man. I woke up one morning. It was winter. I could see an oak tree standing right next to me. It was cold. At first I couldn't feel anything and then I realized that my face was frozen to the ground. I couldn't lift it. It was stuck. I don't know how long I'd been there but it was long enough to freeze me. Something bad had happened. Something violent. My hands were free and I could see that they were blood red. But my thoughts were clear: They told me that I was a dead person. Dead, no longer living. Lifeless.

I remembered everything. Everything from the past. The past was there in front of me. As the sun came up my face was released but for a while I didn't want to get up. I just lay there listening to my thoughts about the past. This is where the world spins in the wrong direction, where it ends. The realization that everything that you ever wanted will never happen. Gone. Gone forever. 16 fucking years and gone. Think of all the love you gave people who never understood that what you were doing was for them and all you ever wanted back was something small. Hope. Not charity. You wanted them to make hope beautiful again.

After a while I got up and for the first time I understood something that had real meaning. You can't escape from what you are. You can only try and make you a better person. Anyway, I'm trying, and that's all I'm doing...trying to be better, trying not to give up. I guess what I'm trying to say is that things may not have worked out like you might have hoped and it's up to you to get on with it. ....Even though you feel that hope is tired and suddenly it isn't available any more... " *

The first step was HOPE. The second step was BETRAYAL. The third step was THE WAR. The fourth step was THE DECISION. The fifth step will be REBUILDING.

*"Frankie Mac", 16 Years of Alcohol.

The Bottom Line

"Faith is an island in the setting sun, But proof is the bottom line for everyone.” Paul Simon

I've always wanted to be stronger. I want to be the person with never-ending patience, understanding, and compassion but I always seem to fail.

In the business world, it is good to be understanding of an employee going through difficult times knowing that the troubles will pass and keeping the employee is worth the wait. Problems occur when the troubles never seem to pass and the BOTTOM LINE is reached. If the employer does not have a bottom line then there is a threat to the existence of the whole company. Should the company go under for one person? I don't know. Risking his flock, there was supposedly a shepherd who went in search of just one sheep.

I've come to the bottom line too many times with people. I do not know if it is because I've had extremes in "troubled" people or ... I am just not strong enough. I ALWAYS blame myself because there is ALWAYS a bottom line -- the point where my emotional and/or physical well-being come crashing down into a pile of rubble which I cannot seem to rebuild very easily.

For example, how long should a person suffer for an addict to obtain some sort of self-intuition and act on it? How long should a person hope to be seen, heard, and loved for who he/she is when the other person does not even seem capable of that for their own self? How long does a spouse wait for an abusive spouse to stop the beating or how long does a child endure parental abuse?

The answer always lies is the stinky and rancid BOTTOM LINE -- the point where either survival of self overcomes kindness to others or death occurs.

I've prayed to be stronger. I thought I had done all the right things to be so: dealing with my own demons, making healthy decisions....but obviously, something has gone wrong. Again.

Step Three: The War

Because my own war continues to rage at a merciless pace, I haven't wanted to write this post on The War.

Frankie had lived a life of alcohol and violence until he met other people with different lifestyles. It was a long struggle for him to figure out who he was versus who he had believed himself to be. Keen insightfulness is probably what saved him. After one particular fight he sees the uselessness of violence:

"this is not the stuff that dreams are made of. Each second here is another education in the art of destruction. The wonder of hate. There's no heart left here. Only eyes that lie and people that charge through the day. Trying to remember where it all began is not good. All that matters is how it affects you and the people you care about. That's the real world. How easy is this? Too easy to stop. They say when a ship sinks the rats float to the top. Some people look forward to this time. "*

While on a date visiting an unfamiliar museum, it was obvious that Frankie was out of his element. He had predicted that the scene would not go well, and after some patrons were rude to him, he resorted to physical threats of bodily harm until his girlfriend pulled him to the side:

Girl: what was all that about? what happened in there?
Frankie: they were horrible, they showed me no respect.
Girl: ...you threatened to cut and hang them from a wall... what did you promise me? ....you said it was over. the violence, the drink, all that stuff was over. it's never going to be over. they hit you, you hit them. someone says something, you say something back. you look for it. it doesn't come looking for you -- you're always on the lookout for it.
Frankie: what am i on the lookout for?
Girl: the past.

Even when we think something dark is behind us we go searching out for it like a hunter seeking to destroy monstrous prey. The need to put a resolve to a never-ending ache can be tremendous enough that it only causes us more grief.

Later, Frankie heads back to the bottle:

"people talk of strength at times like this.
strength of character - be strong, be a man, say no....
just when you thought it was in your grasp...you find yourself back where you started.
nothing is ever as easy as people would have you think. nothing. vodka, vodka, vodka...
where is love when you need it most. where is love when the past begins to leak into your heart.
where is hope...in a hopeless place?...."*

Time and again, Frankie is tossed back and forth between his old lifestyle and the fragile new one. Teased about his new girlfriend and lifestyle, he is threatened by old gang members:

"We heard you were a born-again. must have been given the wrong information. can't imagine ms. goody two-shoes would be too impressed. maybe I'll knock on her door and let her know her projects fucked. Her funny little experiment has fallen apart."*

Step One is Hope. Step Two is Betrayal. Step Three is The War. Step Four will be The Decision.

*"Frankie Mac", 16 Years of Alcohol.

Curses, bashings, and "I'm Only Concerned About the Kids"

I know I haven't blogged for a while. I've been busy with resting and trying to get healthy. I will finish the "Step..." series but this morning something jumped out and lit my heater up: the on-going fiasco with the St. Louis School Board. Who the hell voted for these people?

Diana Bourisaw, left, and Veronica O'Brien

Apparently, there was an emergency closed-door school board meeting called by the board president (Veronica O'Brien) to discuss the firing of the SIXTH superintendent (Diana Bourisaw) serving in the past three years. The session was described as a personal attack on current superintendent Bourisaw with no legitimate complaints.

One board member stated that. "They were hurling accusations at her, trying to demoralize her to the point she would quit," Purdy said. "If this was a school yard, you would call it bullying — that's all it is." This superintendent has only been in office for ONE semester.

Another member complained "I haven't seen her (Bourisaw) do anything productive. She doesn't have the leadership qualities we are looking for in a superintendent," he said. (I'm assuming he is meaning a "yes-man/woman" to do whatever the psychotic board ramblings dictate.)

How could ANYONE get a school system out of such a mess in one semester? Since 2001, the district’s fund balance has dropped from $63 million to a deficit of $30 million. Progress in test scores in the elementary schools has been offset by declines in middle school and high school performance. How can any good come from a group of people who are known for their violent arguing, walking out of meetings, throwing water over each other's head in anger, and placing "curses" upon one another.

I've seen the Bourisaw working in different school systems for the past few years. Whether or not she is right for this particular job is too soon to say. But I do know that she is very intelligent, experienced, and is a kind person. It is the school board, not the superintendents, that have been the problem. Specifically, the president of the school board is completely out of control. During her Fox 2 interview this morning, it was clear that Veronica O'Brien could or would not answer a question in any constructive manner.

A tidbit of history here: the new superintendent recently submitted a report to the state on the poor, but factual, condition of the school system. At one point the president did not want the state to intervene in this situation yet today (post-report) she suddenly announces that she thinks they should intervene. I have news for her, she no longer has a choice because the staties surely are already packing their bags.

With a long history of working with the mentally unstable and a few degrees in mental health, it has become fairly easy for me to identify severe and unstable personality disorders (thought I hate the coinage of terms). Extremely unstable and unpredictable, this president is manipulative and motivated by forces unknown. The frightening part is when she states "I'm only concerned about the kids" -- a mantra for all the school board. As if saying such will make their absurd behavior ok:

• "I'm only doing this for the kids": bash you over the head with a water pitcher...
• "I'm only doing this for the kids": put a witchy curse on your rotten soul...
• "I'm only doing this for the kids": cursing like a sailor regarding your personal life...

I encourage you to write a letter or e-mail to the Department of Education @ http://dese.mo.gov/contactus.html.

Here is a portion of my e-mail:

"Whether or not Dr. Diana M. Bourisaw is able to do a good job is not the issue here as she has not been give sufficient chance to prove herself. The School Board, specifically president Veronica O'Brien, has a history of disruptive behavior. In any organizational structure, dysfunction, corruptness, and incompetency often start from the top and trickle down their inefficiency onto others. At least move to replace Veronica O'Brien with vice president Mr. William Purdy. Possibly better yet, replace the whole board."

Honestly, if no one calls Nancy Grace soon then I'm going to start wearing my "VOTE FOR PEDRO" shirts again.

Step Two: Betrayal

"Here comes the wind...cutting down the buildings...looking for someone to blame for his pointless journey...Someone always has to pay...that's the rule...the ONLY rule." *

Just like everyone trusts someone at some point, everyone also gets betrayed at some point by the same trusted person. It is a necessary trial and, though there will be more than one, there will most likely be one core betrayal -- the one that haunts the soul and nags for resolution. Though severity varies, there is no avoiding it. Each one of us will be entrusted with such a scenario. It is the nature of being human. It is how a person processes such an event that determines a person's character and well-being.

"It feels suddenly as if the clocks stop ticking and the world stops moving. The derison, the hate, the end of good. What are you left with other than this thing called hope? I knew all along but didn't understand it. This was a charade. Not a place where people won things but a place where people lost...and lost badly."*

It is a mystery as to how some people can overcome even the most worst conflict while others cannot even turn to face or acknowledge what may seem a simple one. Any one person might become angry, depressed, violent, addicted, fake, or all of the above and more. Regardless, it is a step in this story.

Step one was hope. Step two is betrayal. Step three is the war.

*"Frankie Mac", 16 Years of Alcohol.

Step One: Hope

"I dream of an extraordinary world where angels watch over you as storm clouds gather." *

I never really thought of myself as a person who WANTED to be loved. Does anyone ever actually have the conscious thought that “I want to be loved?” …seems too dangerous to me. Allowing such a threat would surely lead to a vulnerability that is unacceptable to any ego; at least, one that is fragile.

Some say that love is an addiction and that the only love you need is the love from yourself. For a long time I believed that no one else’s love would ever be necessary for my well-being. I now think that that is only partly correct and is, actually, somewhat of an excuse for avoiding the potential harm from trusting someone …and HOPING that someone… will love you…that you are ok.

In the movie, 16 Years of Alcohol, the prime character obviously begins his life with the hope for love:

“I've always had a strange feeling about love. It seemed tricky. Happiness and sadness...ugly and beautiful...real and unreal...One thing I've always known though is that I have wanted to be around love. Quietly, not too much, just enough to make my heart feel happy. It didn't have to sing...just smile a little...smile at the world. Love is greedy. Somethings, when things don't work out as you might have hoped, love becomes a dangerous thing. Scary, violent, cold like the mood. But sometimes, warm like the breeze.” *

Supposedly, we all start out in the world wanting to be loved. From our very first breaths we supposedly seek out a figure to attach ourselves too. This is, supposedly a most critical event in our lives as countless research projects and papers, mine included, have focused on this area. The sum of the evidence is here.

But "HOPE" is only step one. Step two is "BETRAYAL."

*"Frankie Mac", 16 Years of Alcohol.

Dona Nobis Pacem

Idiocy In Healthcare #1

Due to extreme pain in hips and back when walking, sitting, or lying down, I phoned the gastro doc who is overseeing my current condition. Since they had not followed up with me since the procedures to know that I am still doing miserably, he stated that we can do another test.

I tried to explain that the quality of my life is at zero due to the crippling pain. The endless myriad of tests are making matters worse for me when I have to leave my job during the day and then make up the hours throughout the night. Why weren't these tests done when they were doing all the other tests? He doesn't know and regardless, has no answer to the pain. When I tell him that I am afraid that I am starving, he also cannot tell me what is safe to eat.

In desparation, I phone my primary care physician (pcp) who stated that we can try an anti-depressant which may ease the pain of the fibro as well as my gastro-serotonin-issues. I tried to explain that I am in pain and cannot walk - that something was wrong with my hips and back - but that does not go through.

In even further desparation, I discover a chiro who does acupuncture and massage for fibro and she works next door. I get an appointment that day but when I get there she states that she cannot do anything for me today but assess me. She might have some tests run. After I explain the many thousands of dollars worth of tests that I've had this year, she phones my PCP and they decide that it will be ok for me to set up a treatment regimine for now until further tests can be completed.

Again, in tears, I emphasize the fact that I am having trouble walking and my hips and back hurt to the touch. Well...whatever, we'll see what we can do and appointments are set up...as well as more tests.

At the end of that day, I made it home and found a letter from my life insurance agent listing the results of some routine urine and blood samples I had given. He suggested that I contact my physician as my white blood cell count is over seven times what it should be. Throughout all my maladies and tests lately, has anyone bothered to take a simple cheap urine sample?

Immediately this morning, I phone the PCP and inform her of the test results and she had me come in right away. After confirming that my counts are dangerously high and she hopes I have no kidney damage, I was started on some strong antibiotics. "Could these damage my already broken intestines," I ask? "That is possible, " she responds.

1. I do not understand why urine samples were not taken when everything else was.
2. I do not understand why I got no response when I complained of my hip and back pain. I rarely complain of pain and never that badly.
3. I do not understand why a physician can't think out of the box.
4. I am concerned that physicians just want to make money off expensive tests.

Nocturnal Chatterings #5

COUNTDOWN TO ZERO STATUS: ZERO Milligrams and Holding...Complications Persist....

WHO NEEDS SLEEP?
"Now I lay me down not to sleep
I just get tangled in the sheets
I swim in sweat three inches deep
I just lay back and claim defeat

Lids down, I count sheep
I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is
that I won't sleep

My hands are locked up tight in fists
My mind is racing, filled with lists
of things to do and things I've done
Another sleepless night's begun

There's so much joy in life,
so many pleasures all around
But the pleasure of insomnia
is one I've never found

With all life has to offer,
there's so much to be enjoyed
But the pleasures of insomnia
are ones I can't avoid"

--Barenaked Ladies, "Who Needs Sleep," Stunts, 1998.

- Yep, another sleepless one has arrived. I think I'm just too wound up from the day's events.
+ Today was stressful. Bomb threats usually are.
- I don't know what I would do if I lost a whole building full of people I know.
+ In addition, it is only DAY 4 since launch. Your chemicals are changing as we type.
- I've slept the past three nights though.
+ I think you had more physical pain and exhaustion those nights.
- I don't think the health situation is going very well. It is going to be very disappointing to have gone through all this Effexor-withdrawal suffering only to be prescribed a serotonin-Prozac-like drug to fix my broken colon.
+ Hopefully you can hold out long enough to try other alternatives.
- I just hope that I can avoid the sirens. It is hard because I am frequently tearful and very anxious.
- I continue to secretly hope that there is something better for me. I can't decide, if I were to have a choice, whether to provide a great contribution to humanity or just reach contentedness.
+Perhaps they are one and the same.
- But the great genius' and artists are known for their emotional suffering.
+ You still have both your ears, unlike Van Gogh.
- Yes but I did tear off a loose nail over the weekend...among other things.
+ ...we won't go there. But you did manage to make one fibro-massage appointment. So we'll just keep going down the list - one by one - until we get done what needs to be done.

Broken Poetic #2

it was too far to fall
the boards could not catch her
so she crashed through them
sending splinters into the void

when she opened her eyes
she could see the blood
and the crawl scrapings
along the walls from her previous visit

certain she would not again escape,
she sheltered herself into a ball
eyes closed again

much blackness -- all within her power to enlighten
but she had no success
she had known it was a risk to try
she did not know that she would lose
or what she even had to lose

Lies

Nothing works. Absolutely nothing. Seventeen years of therapy and she is just allegedly "stable." That's all. No contentment, no joy, just allegedly "stable." Considering the fact that there was no way anyone could be allegedly "stable" during the teenage years when she started, allegedly "stable" doesn't have much credence as to the effectiveness of therapy.

Essentially, allegedly "stable" is the equivalent of "not causing a disturbance" or "is quiet" or "no sirens." Nevermind the fact that her inner world is still so miserable that she counts her stockpile of pills in hopes that the little arsenal will take care of herself once and of all. Nevermind the fact that she is starving herself to death again. And, of course, nevermind the temptations of being crushed under a rail train. None of this has to be concerned about because she has learned to play the game. She is "just so very smart" that she will surely pull herself out of this one too. Again, nevermind that the alleged "brilliance" of her IQ is yet another thing that sets her into more hellish isolation.

Everything is about the bottom line lately and the bottom line here is that she would have been better off if they'd left her alone and allowed her to perish to begin with because hope for anything else is all ALLEGED.

Nocturnal Chatterings #4: I Want My Cake Now

+ The body can only take so much stress and now it has broken down. I know that they say it will be this way forever but maybe we can reverse it.

- I don’t know how that would be possible considering that I am too overwhelmed to do anything about it. One person says to eat grain the other to eat soluble white bread, another person says it’s ok to have nuts, another says it’s not, another says dairy is fine but someone else say sit is a big NO.

- I have so many lists of chiropractors vs physical therapists vs massage therapists vs acupuncturists vs reiki vs internal medicine vs shrinks. I’m just going to put my right leg in, then take it out, then shake it all about then turn around really fast until I fall down, hit my head, and go into a coma. If that does not work then I will have to go to Plan B: volunteer to be a mercenary.

+I think you have to figure out what works for you.

- I’m fairly sure that is not possible considering it takes all my energy to just do what I can to get to this job I am lousy at everyday and then make it home between driving around the entire county for 13 different medical appoints per month..

+You have to break the cycle of that

- I think I need to break my skull.

+ That won’t work.

- When did I become such a whiny needy wench? I strongly need to be independent and move on with things. It's not like anyone is going to help. I sure do not know what to do. No one needs me, so why should I even want to need anyone else? I need to move away and get a new career and life. This whole blog is pathetic.

+Perhaps you are not ready.

- Perhaps you are full of crap. My knees, joints, hip bones swell and I can’t catch my breath. What’s it all worth anyway? NOTHING.

How Do We Choose Our Battles?

"What you are about to see in there is not easy. It will take your courage." -- Felix Mutagoma, the Mayor of Gikongoro, a small town three hours southwest of Kigali, Rwanda

Hoping to see a simple action-adventure flick, I purchased tickets to Blood Diamond this past weekend and was caught off-guard when I found myself doing the whole "Hotel-Rwanda-experience" again -- tears and all. These types of atrocities are always difficult to watch. Personally knowing African refugees makes it that much harder.

I have nothing profound to say and no clever comments to make that haven't already been said by someone. I'll just type a couple of quotes that stand out in my mind from the movie:

• African citizen to another: "I can't imagine what will happen to us if they ever discover oil here."
• African citizen to American Journalist: "If you write about this, will the Americans help?" Journalist: "No..."

Go to http://blooddiamondmovie.warnerbros.com/ and click the "Global Conflict" link for a time line of events.

A Rwanda Photo Essay

False Imprisonment

COUNTDOWN TO ZERO STATUS: 18.25 Milligrams and Holding...Complications Arise....

Messenger: Eliminate all red meat, dairy, fried foods, egg yolks, coffee, soda pop, and alcohol from your diet. Never eat high fat foods, even in small portions, on an empty stomach or without soluble fiber. Better still, don't eat them at all. Avoid garlic, onions, leeks, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, asparagus, and Brussels sprouts, citrus fruits, vinegars, cooked tomatoes, juices with fructose.

For the next couple of weeks eat only rice cereals, pasta, fresh white bread, soy, cornmeal, potatoes (NO BUTTER), bananas, applesauce.

me: Edible food in house = one baking potato and some pasta.

Shopping Attempt #1 - Location = organic foods market:

1. Enter store with list
2. See no familiar brands
3. Lost bewilderment ensues
   
4. Overwhelmed by strange foods
5. Spy 50+ cheeses and panic! Can't have cheese!
   
6. Burst into tears and exit.
   

Shopping Attempt #2 - Location = regular market:

1. Enter store with list
2. See many familiar and desireable brands. No, can't have any of those....
3. Lost bewilderment ensues
4. Overwhelmed by other shoppers sampling the nicities and buying up Christmas meats and baking goods.
5. Spy row of cheeses and butters and panic! Spy Coke Classic and panic! Spy pastries and double panic!
6. Grab Cream of Rice, other junk, and leave tearfully. Forgot Peppermint tea for the tummy.
7. Arrive home hysterically crying, throw away/replace allot of real food, then crawl into bed hoping Angry Anniearexia will not be triggered into visiting soon.
   

Spouse: What is fibromyalgia and IBS?

me: those are some new prison cells sent down by God because I do not have enough of them already. All a part of the war effort I suppose.

Hope #7

"Sometimes...for some people...things don't work out as they might have HOPED. .......HOPE...is a currency for people who know they're losing...the more familiar you are with hope the less beautiful it becomes. ....you'll never wake up a new person but someday you might wake up and see things, hear things, and think things differently."*

Yes, I know I've already used this quote in the post "Hope #1". It comforts me at this time.

There have been numerous times when I have come across day-to-day life situations (aka, people) in which I have experienced significant emotional turmoil. First, I always ask myself two things:

1. What can I do to change this situation?
2. What can I do to change the way I react to this situation?
   

If I cannot succeed in the above two questions, then I have to ask myself if I need to remove myself from the situation. Because removing myself from such situation usually causes unpleasant chaos and tumult, I never want to follow-through. However, the inevitable occurs when I become so dysfunctional and distraught that I must follow-through and endure the agony of it regardless.

I have ended many situations in my life, some which could have killed me and others not near so extreme. Sometimes, just removing myself from the situation for a while makes all the difference. Sometimes it is ok to go back to those situations - with a new outlook. Most of the time, it is better to move on (for me anyway).

On a few occasions, an amount of time would go by and I ended up with regrets -- wondering if a made a mistake. Then, some time later, I realized either "That was a good thing to end" or "THANK GOD THAT IS OVER."

As I look around my life now with the need to make some lifestyle changes, I am afraid and can't imagine that any changes I make will be of any good. It seems that everything in my life is just too daunting and impossible to change.

Surprising though, is the answer I get when I was myself if I, at this moment, regret any of those painful foreclosures I have initiated in the past? The answer is a surprising "no." I am unpredictably fine and the better for it (which of course also scares me.)

*Sixteen Years of Alcohol, 2003.

Conversations With Ignorance #1.03

ignorance: Do I have to get a license to drive a scooter?
me: It depends on how fast the scooter goes...
ignorance: I want just a normal small one so that I can drive it to the bar and home and not have to worry about the whole drinking and driving issue.
me: You think that you can operate a scooter while drunk?
ignorance: I think it would be easier than a car.
me: You came in yesterday and were unable to recognize that your clothes were inside-out because of your drinking the night before, right?
ignorance: No, I frequently do not notice that kind of thing regardless of drinking.
me: :::recalls ignorance accidentally wearing first grade son's pants:::
me: Ok, you're right.
ignorance: The whole thing is perfect because I will get no more DUI's.
me: If you operate ANY motorized vehicle while under the influence you can get a DUI.
third-party-listener: Hey, remember that man who got arrested for driving a lawn mower drunk?!!!
ignorance: Damn!
ignorance: :::walks away moping::: :::gibberish:::

Broken Poetic #1

cold winter day on a parking lot
christmas shoppers bustle about
broken down again, the tears fall
she screams and hopes to die
no one hears or looks into her eyes

another table for one won't do today

The Fear Of God Lies In A Toothless Cat

“All of our unhappiness comes from our inability to be alone.”
--Jean de la Bruyere (French satiric moralist, 1645-1696)

I was a little late this year getting my two guy cats to the vet so I ended up doing the loud "crash-chase-around-the-house-and-capture" routine yesterday. They are both getting old so I suspected that the vet would recommend a teeth-cleaning (which requires anesthesia) for both of them and indeed she did. What I didn't expect to hear was that my favorite cat, Baby, has a severe tooth infection and will need to have the tooth pulled or the infection could go to his heart and he will die. It was at that point that the Fear began to hit me.

Yes, I do recall the series of Betta fish posts I did recently, how afraid and upset I was, and how I survived Lazzy's death but this is beyond that. I got Baby too-soon after he was born and he could fit in my hand. Since the first night I got him, he has preferred to sleep on my head at night. At first it was annoying but I became used to it and preferred it. Now that he is 16-lbs, sleeping on my head is a little annoying again and I have breathing and allergy problems but I still prefer it.

When Baby first came to live with us I wasn't too happy about it. He is a black cat and I wanted an orange one. I was home all day in those days, he was constantly at my side doing something, and I did not care for the invasion. Now, he continues to stay within a few feet of me when I am home but now I go looking for him if he is having an independent moment and I do not like him not being nearby.

He is more loving and affectionate than any other cat, or person, I've known. He likes to lick me (yuck), cuddle, "spoon" in bed, stare into my eyes, listen to me, and tell me how he feels (which he does ALLOT of.) I don't think he is 100% cat but is also part dog and part human. He is able to fetch and bark. Hmmm...now that I think about it, he also sounds like a raccoon and pig at times...so add those animals to his breeding. He frequently sits human-style and other such things.

Yes, he is my best friend and I have never been closer to another living being than I am with him. (In fact, now that he has heard me typing, he needs to lie on the keyboard.)

Being close to others has been an issue with me lately. It has become more clear to me that all my current relationships are what I call "arms-length" relationships because that is the distance I am kept from others. How much of this has to do with me versus them remains to be determined but in any event, it has become quite painful.

I do pretty much everything alone and spend most of my time alone at work and home. Except for drinking and happy hours (which do not count as real human contact), no one asks me to spend time with them and no one accepts my few requests either. No, I do not have any family. I'm not emotionally intimate with my spouse and he cannot list one reason as to why he loves or stays with me so the cat is pretty much all I have (next to myself, of course.)

Being so alone and experiencing the "ultimate-aloneness" that everyone runs from is definitely my equivalent to the "Fear of God" phenomenon. The knowledge that I have to drop Baby off at a vet's office, leave him screaming (yes, he does scream), crying, hissing, and ALONE in a place where something painful and dangerous will happen causes my stomach to hurt more than the colonoscopy and sickness I experienced lately ever could.

Conversations With Ignorance #1.02

ignorance: Do you know anything about drug testing because I'm in a bind...iasli hidfh :::gibberish:::
me: Not really...why?
ignorance: I have to take a drug test for the new job.
me: Why is that a problem?
ignorance: I might have accidentally smoked some cocaine.
me: :::gives dead stare:::
me: ...accidentally?
ignorance: I was at a friends house last night and grabbed his cigarette and there was cocaine on it so now it might be in my body!!!
me: How does that even happen?
ignorance: He had been doing cocaine and there was some in the ashtray!
me: So why did you smoke his cigarette?
ignorance: I didn't know!
me: You didn't realize there was cocaine around you?
ignorance: No! I don't do drugs. I don't think I felt anything so maybe I didn't get enough in me, what do you think?
me: Just come clean with your employer and tell them that you hang out with druggies and may have accidentally ingested some.
ignorance: Really?
me: NOT.
me: Go to Walgreen's over lunch, bring it back here, and we'll all take a look at it.
ignorance: :::exits to Walgreen's:::

Nocturnal Chatterings #3

COUNTDOWN TO ZERO STATUS: 18.25 Milligrams and Holding....

- I don't think I can blame it all on the Effexor and Serotonin issue anymore. Something else has happened. Sick in the bathroom eight times today. I can feel something chewing away my stomach lining. I'm wondering if an alien has indeed crawled up my ass and should I phone Sigourney Weaver.

- The girls say I'm wasting time on therapy, being brainwashed.

+ I think the girls need brainwashing. You certainly do not want to end up like ignorance 1.*.

- I can't tell for sure. Everyone keeps me at arms-length. I am feared and am not sure why. Is it because I'm quiet or is it because they can sense my radiation leak or do I send out hidden messages to stay-the-hell away.

- I do not know how long is too long for any given situation. You stay a decade with someone then BANG you wonder what happened and why you didn't take the job overseas.

Conversations With Ignorance #1.01

ignorance: Lawyers are too expensive!!! i got ahosid arrested aoshi khidh khraphali ::gibberish::
me: you got what?
ignorance: those assholes arrested me this weekend
me: the police arrested you?
ignorance: yeah they asihd hli left ihlis walk home dark
me: why were you arrested?
ignorance: they arrested me for trespassing when I went on the (gambling) boat this past weekend and I'm going to sue
me: didn't you have your name put on the state gambling addictions list so that you would not be allowed on the boat without being arrested?
ignorance: yeah, but that was two years ago
me: doesn't the list last for five years?
ignorance: nobody told me
me: ...but you signed the paper telling you...
ignorance: yeah, but it was dangerous because then they made me walk all the way across town in the dark back to my car at the boat. I could have been attacked! I bought some beer so that I would look like a street bum.
me: ...
ignorance: I'm gonna sue for defamation of character and endangerment.
me: ...but you had put yourself on the list...
ignorance: yeah, but sidh lih ehi ...I've been making allot of money at online casinos and remember Vegas last month?
me: ...didn't you get beat up there?
ignorance: those d*mn ...
me: ...
ignorance: I've got to get a lawyer before my first court date! I'm not sure I can defend myself.
me: ...
me: just tell the judge this - "Hey Judge, bet you five dollars that I'm not an addict!"
ignorance: ...I don't know if that will work...

Girls On Motorcycles

I can gauge allot about a person by just mentioning that I ride a motorcycle. Perhaps because I come across as being more on the feminine side of female, I have come across no one who would ever guess that I am commando of my own crotch-rocket. In any event, the reactions from others basically reveal two types of people:

1. Someone who gets defensive and/or critical. If male: penis and manhood issues are evident. If female: lack of own personal freedom.
2. Someone who thinks it's cool. If male: "I love to ride" or "Girls who ride motorcycles ARE HOT." If female: "I love to ride" or "I want to ride" or "That's NOT for me.

It's really has been a long and rocky road to owning my own bike. I've wanted some sort of motorbike since I was about five but was repeatedly denied because of danger and being a girl. My father actually bought me a "broken" three-wheeler at one point and claimed that he would "fix it up" for me. It sat in the tool shed for over a year before he informed me that it was junk and sold it to someone. It's amazing how the bike went from completely broken down one day to happily being ridden by a boy (half my age at the time) across town the following day. In any event, I had allot of good imaginary rides on that bike.

When I did finally decide to take a motorcycle class a couple of years ago, I provided those around me with my usual type of amusement. However, it was when I actually went out and bought a motorcycle that the craziness ensued. Everyone who had been previously amused was then loudly vocalizing their disapproval of my decision. Sample comments:

• "You are too tiny to ride a motorcycle."
• "Motorcycles are too dangerous for you."
• "You are going to get yourself killed."
• "You are a girl and are not supposed to be on a motorcycle."
• "You are crazy."
• "Why, it just goes against nature!"
  

Two years later, most of the negative comments have disappeared but people remained preoccupied with it. Instead of "How are you doing?" questions, I get asked "Are you still riding your motorcycle?" To a couple of people who are really silly-obsessed over it, I have started making up stuff like: "Yeah, I've turned the blocks around the mall into my own personal racetrack" or "Yeah, I actually scraped some sparks off my footpegs going around Big Bend the other day." or "Yeah, I cut thirty-minutes off my commute yesterday by passing on the curb on 270." (When people hear "motorcycle," they incorrectly assume that I am a careless speed-demon who weaves in and out of traffic at 150mph.)

Life is too hard to not do what you enjoy in order to please the expectations of others. I had more to say on the subject but blogspot lost the original version of this post so I had to revert to a back-up. I'll just end with some quotes from the late racecar driver Dale Earnhardt Sr.:

"Finishing races is important, but racing is more important. "
“You can't let one bad moment spoil a bunch of good ones.”
"The winner ain't the one with the fastest car its the one who refuses to lose”

Conversations With Ignorance and People Who Make More Money Than I #1

::phone rings::
me: hello
ignorance: hey, whassup?
me: not much
ignorance: hey we're happyghoudrhaosodijfapsoiijaisdhahd ::gibberish::
me: slow down and repeat - I can't understand you
ignorance: there's probably going to be a happy hour for me this wednesday to celebrate my last day at the old job.
me: I thought you gave up happy hours and smoking...for the 6th time this year...
ignorance: the American Lung Association told me not to quit smoking
me: ... come again?
ignorance: ::repeats self::
me: ... you actually SPOKE to the American Lung Association?
ignorance: yeah, they said to not quit smoking right now since I'm having a major life change (job change)
me: ...
ignorance: it's for the best anyway since I'm on a buttload of codeine.
me: ... (afraid to ask)
ignorance: I'm in allot of pain
me: ::giving in:: what did you do?
ignorance: me and my buddies were bowallihp asiuh asdhuihe asdhfh wii
me: slow down and repeat - I can't understand you
ignorance: me and my buddies were bowling on the Nintendo Wii and I threw the ball too hard and smashed my hand into a light bulb and ...ashid hiosihf asoihd jijfe ::gibberish::
me: ...
ignorance: I didn't want to go to the ER but there was so much blood it wouldn't stop bleeding! I had to get twelve stiches and then shreoiw hsidfhioh sldkj hihsih ... ::gibberish::
me: ...
ignorance: ...so anyway, I'll call you later and let you know where the happy our will be. I didn't quite make it in to work todasdih hisdili ashdjfh iohehks ::gibberish::
me: k

Hope #6

After a ruthless 24 hours of expelling my insides from every orifice, chills, tremors, hysteria, cramping, and parathesia, stopping the 18.75 mg just did not work. It seems I have not been able to keep food in my body for more than six hours for the past four weeks. Now taking Levbid, Immodium, Prilosec, and Emetrol for the GI distress alone, I wish I'd started Heroin instead. I do not recall a disclaimer for SSRI Discontinuation Syndrome, Serotonin Syndrome, or anything of the kind when I started this poison a decade or so ago.

If 95% of Serotonin is secreted by the gut, what does it mean to my body if Serotonin re-uptake has been inhibited for a decade and then is overwhelmed by Serotonin to the point of toxicity and near-death then is forced to go back to normal functioning? Is it too broken? I have lost time over the past eleven months due to some sort of Serotonin/Effexor-related catastrophe. I wish I had been given a choice to begin with.

Hope #5

i am the sore that they fear -- the one they avoid -- the pain that they run from -- the girl under the bed whose head -- fragile as an eggshell -- cracks to reveal the betrayal and hopelessness that they hate -- the one who runs naked and exposed through the cemetery mind -- the one they choose to avoid because they fear themselves but it is i who suffer as well -- left alone and abandoned to be eaten alive by the infections of my own sores -- the gnawing away -- the destruction and collapse of the shell -- freezing, shivering, sweating, raw and open with tremors i expel the acidic evidence boiling in the pit of my stomach up into my throat and down onto the discarded jeans next to my bed on this my first complete day without any effexor for the past lost decade....

Bullet In A Bible #4

...Born and raised by hypocrites.

Hearts recycled but never saved

from the cradle to the grave

we are the kids of war and peace

from anahem to the middle east

we are the stories and disciples of

the jesus of suburbia

land of make believe

and it dont believe in me and i dont care!

At less that a week old, I had already had my first trip to church. Up until not long ago, I attended weekly services more often than not for the next thirty years in a non-Catholic but typical Jesus-based denomination. A few years ago after the "DaVinci Code" and other related phenomena, I seriously began to question the beliefs that I had been taught my entire life. I switched faiths despite my fear of being executed down by the almighty strike of lightening and it was quite a big event that gave me stomach-aches for a number of months (my childhood religion was one of the "fire and brimstone variety".) It's an inevitable event in the life of anyone who chooses to take the path of personal growth: to question and seek out one's own belief in a higher power.

Though I have been very pleased with my decision to change faiths, I still have many questions and even more doubts that plague me. I keep telling myself that I am only asking the same questions that have been asked for generations:

• Did Jesus exist?
• Was Jesus divine?
• How can God allow bad things to happen?
• Do any of these issues even matter if you lead an honorable, noble, and loving life?

I tend to answer the last question with a big "no," yet I still cannot get myself to attend services any longer. If there is one thing that I cannot do is participate in an activity that I do not believe in or pretend to be someone that I am not and I have not decided on either.

I do believe that the role of decent churches in a community is vital. No matter what the details are of the religious premise, truly loving churches provide a resource to those in need. I fear what would happen if there were no churches to hand out coats and food to the poor or minister to those who have lost loved ones or to just support each other. So if I believe in churches and faith so much then what is my problem? Why am I no longer participating in something I believe in? Is it the late Sunday mornings at IHOP I have been enjoying? Am I too bitter over my childhood bruises? Have I seen too much beyond-the-norm hypocrisy (so I've become a part of it)? Is it too painful to see nice people who do not yell and scream during services? Because nothing is simple, it is probably all of the above and then some.

I have no answer and another Sunday approacheth. At this time, I live the life of a powerless being flopping about helplessly and struggling to just breathe until I am either able to pick myself up and throw myself back in, I get kicked in the backside, or just die.

the best darn archeological religious stuff around is here

Nocturnal Chatterings #2

- i never know whether or not to lay here or get up. maybe i should blog.

+you've already blogged once tonight and need your sleep

-i took the ambien with no success. It might have to do with the new titration from 37.5 mg to 18.75 mg. It's been almost a week and no hysteria but plenty of other problems.

+still could be the withdrawal, you should get some rest. you are developing medical conditions.

-therapy was strange tonight. they still think i have trauma issues to resolve. i don't want to be angry like they want me to be. anger ends up making me cry and i don't want to.

+the sooner you get on the matter then the sooner it will be over.

-but i don't believe that anymore --that there is some type of end--i've seen no proof of it. I can't take any more pills of any nature because a limb may fall off or something else equally disastrous.

+ ...

-i'm thinking about doing a "girl in a bar" adventure blog.

+would this girl be someone we know, dare i ask?

-of course not, purely fictional yet symbolic of anyone

+.... i thought you were doing Green Day blogs this week.

-oh, ok, hold on...i think i have something:

Brain Stew
I'm having trouble trying to sleep
I'm counting sheep but running out
As time ticks by, still I try
No rest for crosstops in my room
On my own, here we go

My eyes feel like they're going to bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
My mouth is dry, my face is numb
Fucked up and spun out in my room
On my own, here we go

My mind is set on overdrive
The clock is laughing in my face
A crooked spine, my sense is dulled
Passed the point of delirium
On my own, here we go

Bullet In A Bible #3

"[Hrmph...(coughing into microphone)]...MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE?!!! THE REPRESENTATIVE FROM MISSOURI NOW HAS THE FLOOR!...

...Seek out to the president gasbag !
Bombs away is your punishment !
Pulverize the Eiffel tower
who criticized your government !
Bang bang goes the broken glass man -
Kill all the fags that don't agree !
Triumph by fires, sinning buyers !
Is that a way that's meant for me ?

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies !
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives !"

--Billie Joe Armstrong / Green Day

Bullet In A Bible #2

"REMEMBER ONE THING: Regardless of who the powers that be are - the people that you elect (and) the people that I elect into office - remember that we have the fucking power -we're the fucking leaders! Don't let these bastards dictate your life and try to tell you what to do!" --Bille Joe Armstrong/GreenDay

How many election-related blogs will there be this week? If I am doing Green Day blogs this week, then there is no way that I CAN'T mention voting. Personally, I rarely vote because I believe in the person or the issue. If anything, I vote because I believe in the principle.

I think that the higher up an official is, the less I am voting for him or her but am voting for a group of people whose faces and names I've probably never seen or heard. These people are mostly "yes-men/women." Mostly manipulative, self-serving, and malicious, these people will stop at nothing to get what they want --including rigging and hacking the voting boxes.

It is not enough to just go and vote but we also have to ASSURE that our votes are counted properly with no tampering. The current software used for voting machines, alone, is enough to destroy any chances of a fair election. The software company, DIEBOLD, has openly admitted for the past two years that they purposely left a backdoor into their software "so that election officials would be able to update their systems easily." They go on to justify these actions by claiming: "For there to be a problem here, you're basically assuming a premise where you have some evil and nefarious election officials who would sneak in and introduce a piece of software... I don't believe these evil elections people exist."

"I DON"T BELIEVE THESE EVIL ELECTIONS PEOPLE EXIST"! IS THIS FOR REAL? Hearing this makes me want to become an extremist. I should just write in Nancy Grace on my ballot for president during when those elections come along.

Green Day at the Imperial war Museum: "Hiroshima: they made a gallery of other people's pain..."

St. Louis Ballot

Diebold

Bullet in A Bible #1

"I'm the son of rage and love - the jesus of suburbia - from the bible of "none of the above"
on a steady diet of soda pop and ritalin ... but there's nothing wrong with me - this is how i'm supposed to be - in the land of make believe - that don't believe in me..."

Green Day's "Bullet In A Bible" album (the live version of the "American Idiot" album) has been out for over a year now but I still get chills listening to it or watching the DVD. It perfectly represents the war within us so, of course, I have allot to say about it. Actually, to me, it's not so much an album to talk about but to feel. The main songs that get to me are "Jesus of Suburbia", "American Idiot", "Wake Me Up When September Ends", and "Holiday."

The quote above is from Billie Joe Armstrong, the lead of Green Day, referencing their rock-opera-like piece "Jesus of Suburbia." In regards to this piece he stated, "...Jesus of Suburbia scared the shit out of me, there's too much emotion at stake there. The first two lines alone scare the living piss out of me but excite me as well. It was opening up something that dug up some past demons that I thought I had closed off long time ago but never reconciled. It's about all the emotional baggage we come with and finally having an outlet for it."

Here are some quotes from fans during the infamous New England concert:

"People want the voice"

"Green Day challenges people to think about life."

"Green Day is all about being who you are...a
minority...and not being afraid of anything else.
You've got to be who you are and not be scared of
that. They bring out something you didn't know
you had before and if anyone tells you otherwise
you just have to give them the finger.

All of us want a voice and most of us have a hard time finding ours because it has been stuffed down into the deep recesses of our souls. In yet another age of war and tragedy, Green Day brings words to feelings most of us can't express. Truly from their punk-rock roots, they empower all the stereotypical "geeks and queers" who get beat up on the playground and loudly declare it ok to be whoever we may be.

The encouragement is emplowering for the masses in times of need, including myself but the question lies in what do each one of us do with this? Do we ignore it and shrug it off? Does it make us angry? Does it make us sad? If so, what do we do about that? What constructive act can I do to bring purpose to crap in my own life or is there anything? I'd like to be a leader of a rock-n-roll band too but I think I'm past the prime for that. So should I just take pills and stare at the tv or rally at the courthouse or just hold someone's hand? Should I leave the cube-farm at work and head to war-torn Africa? Or should I be an emotional head-case? It really is a big question if you let it be. What would you do?

Another Billy Joe quote : "People ask me what would I do with myself if I weren't in Green Day and I say 'I AM Green Day.' If I weren't in a band I would STILL BE Green Day because I do what I am."