Leaf House

"ehhhhhhhhhhahhhahhhahhhhaaahhhaaahhhaaaahhhaaaahhhaaaaawaaaahaaaa"

I'm main Chef. Head Grill. I'm so very intrigued by my turn of events. Both my brother and my best friend now occupy my place of employment- queer verdad?? The confidence flowing within my veins is staggering- anxious butterflies swarming into reactions, movements, the correctness of procedures. All I needed was for work to start. To occupy this hungry bread n' hustlin head o mine.

Even with my intense loneliness, my echo of a man-less life, is slowling closing. *shrug* what's a fag to do? I love my best friends, all of them, the bitches that stay by my side. My family is not my mother, nor even my sista papa or half bro bro- my friends and inner soul is what keeps me a ticking. What about sanity you say? Fuck the calamnity that is my life, I'm done worrying- let's just laugh about it.

Let's all take a moment to laugh about life. So ridiculous this journey may seem, and it is no illusion. Work, sleep, cry, pray, work, sweat, bleed, work, sleep, eat eat eat, anger, horny, alone, work, work, death.

All I want is to be in love again. When I was in love, all bad matter and negative energy moved its sassy ass somewhere else, the inflated heart is not one to fuck with me. I have a lot of goals and dreams and wishes, I'm being proactive, but this ginger is still STUCK in time.

I miss Mitch Drinkwater with all my soul. He was the reason to rebel, the reason to try new things. He was my yang damnit, and together we laughed our way through the ridiculousness that is this life. No matter where we are, Mitch, we are always touching by underground wires, and I just wanted you to know that.

I got a puppy. Frannie is her name. Energy and Schizo are her attributes, but the love emitting from that tiny vessel is more than enough to ease this depressive hole of a heart. I love her tiny shits and how they don't smell. I love her kisses, boy does she love to give tongue the little whore. I'm so glad to have a new life companion. One that will always look up to me in admiration and love, and I can reciprocate, and all will be well.

I miss the past. I miss my friends. I'm ready to get this party started. Won't anybody come dance with me? My god, I just wanna lose myself, forget it all, and jive until the ginger frizz upon my head is nothing but a raggedy andy mop.

This is a shout out to Good Music. Good Friends. And finally fucking working. Thank you world, I appreciate your kindness. . . today at least.

Let's Make It Magical

Holy Fuck guess what? 3 days before opening at my new job- they drop this tiny bombshell on little ole Raymond- He is no longer shift manager! Jee Whiz! What luck!
I totally saw it coming. I work so hard. I try to hard. I didn't even get a chance. . .

Bryen (Harry) Harris and I are totes partying at 1-30 am. We worked late so our juices be pumping. Trying to pick out a movie to distract ourselves- possibilites??? An Alien movie sounds amazing- cept we have been watching those flics many a time over the past weeks. Alas, Harry just chose the winner- Halloween 6 with a very young, and very ridiculous, Paul Rudd. A Classic in my eyes. Ah. Nothing like gore to make you feel better about being alive!

SO. I've actually been working. Traing. Doing and learning things I gleaned in Arizona. Very redundant. Just working Cashier stuff. BUT today lucky me got picked to be switched to the grill- the very same area that made me break down and cry in Phoenix- with a smile, I accepted. So, this is going to be a very very very different job than what I was expecting. Whatever gives me money. Whatever it takes to survive.

Life here at the trailer has been very hot. It insultates heat like a very well put-together oven. My mother's constant drug use and mood swings is driving me insane. But I'm stuck. At least I'm working. At least I'm trying.

Someday Someday
this very Gay Ray
shall escape into Wednesday-
His art will wonder, his hair will swirl,
love will be desired, and his magic will pearl.
Upwards and Downwards, Sidewards and Onwards
Luck, my dear friend, haven't no forwards.
Like Freddy the Krueger, my mind is in shreds-
I have no man, no beast, to fuck up my beds.
Where is my soul? Where art thou Mind?
I've made mistakes, no regrets, nay on rewind.
I must move on. I will survive. I'm destined for greatness.
But don't worry folks, I'm still very scared shitless.

Simplification

Don't you always ponder the past and just wonder, "why did I ever do that?"

I try to hold the philosophy that I will never regret anything I ever do, enjoy my human experience for all it's worth. Yet, lately, the "shoulda's" and the "coulda's" have just been on the tip of mind. Damn. I should have stayed in school. Fuck. I shouldn't smoke pot. Holly Hell. Why do I let people use me?

I really don't know who I am anymore. Am I the same freckly, ginger haired boy that graduated valedictorian and was in all the school plays? Always animated with a smile on my face, and an eager joke ready to be lifted offa my tongue? Eh. I went off to college and met some of my bestest friends yet- people that completed the parts of soul that were missing- but they all gave up on me and are traveling down their own paths. I'm left alone, again, to experience life and do things according to what I think is right. and Lord knows I wasn't raised correctly. So we all know how that can turn out.

I always think of the past- the goods times, the bad, the in-between. "I should have done that!" or "Why didn't I just do . . ." always pop into my head months after the conflict has already met the resolution. I guess that's the great thing about being human, and thinking. Re-examining the bad parts to make you a better person, remembering the good times for a quick happy pick-me-up, or just forgetting all the boring in-between memories because they just aren't quite worth it.

I just don't know what to do these days. I'm stuck in time. Awaiting change, awaiting some fantastical miracle to come save me. I am the bearer of my own destiny, and I know I have already acted accordingly, but, fuck me Freddie, am I tired of trying. Trying and ultimately failing. Ask anyone who know's me the dearest, and they will provide just as much proof to this statement:
My life is unreal. I have the worst luck ever.

I'm always grateful for each breathe I take, I never know if it will be my last. I realize how delicate the human experience is, and I want to get to it all. I never take anything for granted. I'm such a nihilist. But to quote Kevin Barnes I'm a "Nihilist with a good imagination". I can imagine a happy perfect life. I just can't imagine me getting there. I do stupid things, I break the law all the time. It's only a matter of time and space before karma comes to collect up on me. Yet then again, there's the opposite. My life has been filled with such infectious hatred and evil, when is it my turn to be happy? to be normal?

FUCK THE NORMAL.

I'm gay. I'm a red-head. I smoke weed. I pastel really well. I love Stephen King. I love getting hurt and bruises. I'm skinny and white as hell. I'm very sarcastic. I feel too smart sometimes, even tho I'm so retarded. My parent's never raised me, my parent's are drug addicts. I feel so smart, but then again at times- so fucking naive. What's it like to have two loving parent's raise you? What's it like to have parent's with money to bail you outta your tough spots? What's it like to have your mother NOT be on probation?
I love being an actor. To escape into another character and to forget everything that is and was Raymond Lund. I think that's why I'm so good at it. I'm so readily willing to give up any truth of my existence to let another being be brought to life. Oh god, how I miss the stage!

I'm too lazy. I think I gave up years ago. My grand finale was high school- then bam! Ray discovers drugs. Eugene, OR may have been a bad call, and you can call a spade a spade, but you fucking people lied! D.A.R.E. lied! You always said drugs were bad, but you never said why! and you never said they make you feel so damn good! but that's just a bullshit statement, because in the end, it's all an illusion- drugs don't make you feel good, they fuck up your shit.

*shrug*
I want to smoke some pot so bad. I just hate everything about my situation. I hate never having any money. I hate never having any privacy. I just hate everything right now. My best friend. My mom. Myself.
I always feel like I'm waiting.
Even tho I try so hard.
I'm waiting and waiting.
for something good to happen.
do you think it ever will?
or will I be a fucking 90 year skin sack still lookin for that rainbow on a clear day?
Time will tell, and that's what pisses me off. Time. I want change, and I want it now. Fuck waiting and all it's principles. I'm a unique individual with skills to be shown, but goddamn how I fucked it all up. And that's just all I can think about these days.