Grey.

I knew the good times,as sparse as they were, would not last. How could they?

I had a hellacious round of doctors appointments to tough out today and more to come. At this fucked point in the proceedings I am not quite sure if I have hit the wall or the wall has hit me. This fills my chest cavity with grey clouds and unicorn shit.I stumble though the front door and is that defeat and stupidity I can smell? Yep,you got it,the Dolt is home after a week away. Cue my devil-may-care angle shattered. I tried to explain to Lilli that she would feel the same way if someone had rubbed her up the wrong way as many times as he has me.She just tunes me out.

I think its a family deal here this weekend.That means drunk and shouty. How delightful.

Cue earplugs in.

I did not sign up for this.

Nor did I think I would be ferrying my fat ass back to therapy again after forever sized break. I am a malignant marginal mess listening to Guns’n’Roses ballads while clad in counterfeit Juicy couture sweatpants. Back on the couch again…Its dire but I have to do it. All my tee shirts have mustard stains on them,I’m not sleeping and my room looks like its trying to eat my bed. I am hateful and I feel much of the same.

I spend a lot of time reading Raymond Chandler in the bath floating my corpulent corpse while imbibing generic soda water in the more unsociable hours of the morning. Epson salts are lovely.I don’t pick up the phone due to the shit I know will fall out of my mouth if there is a sympathetic ear on the the other end of the line. If you know your animal,as I do mine, you know how to ride it out.

True respect is protecting the nut-jobs who are deluded and kind enough to love you from the worst of yourself. Don’t be a selfish whiner! Try it you heathens!

I requested lap band surgery from my long suffering doctor today. I burst into tears when he weighed me. He refused. “Well how about a lobotomy?” I sniffled.

No dice.

I just heard them all come home. The Dolt reproduced a while back and spawned a Ritalin deficient clone that will be bobbing and  babbling in his retarded wake. I am not a kid friendly person. I think that I am allergic. I should have been an abortion for the love of Elvis! What makes anyone think that I will be cool with anyone else’s lack of birth control is beyond me.

Saint Tina,Elvis bless her, tells me that she thinks that my darkness is inherited. Well, that’s a fucking no brainer. Not only was I denied from conception till tainted birth and then tossed aside,all of which I think I retained on a cellular level, its a well known fact that Polacks do misery like B-list actors do meth,hookers and denial.

Any country that can give the world Roman Polanski and Joseph Conrad is a dark land indeed….

So yeah,I am hiding out till I have to get back on the door tomorrow night.The rent still needs to be paid.Maybe someone should tell the Dolt that…just sayin’… There is no other option that wont land me in jail.I keep trying to clean up but all that entails is shoving shit from one side of my room to the other.

You know shit is all kinds of wrong when I decide not to hang out with my hermanos at Cannibal Corpse. If I can’t bring my A-game? Well then,I ride the bench.

A week since I caught up with Mr Pike. We lent against a battle scared road-case backstage and traded salacious tidbits about all the people that we know and share. My world is so very small and I wouldn’t have it any other way . We are all so damaged, my epic comrades and me. I adore my alpha friends who don’t give up the fight. My light burns a little brighter in the wake of their hallowed presence.

While I am stuck out here in Shitsville I need all the positive affirmations that I can get from back in the world. It all adds up and patches my addled ass back together for the next round. Mr Sult in the studio tracking what I know will be another great Clutch album.We chat about the joyous impeding birth of his second son.He tells me that he read about my band on Blabbermouth. I sit up late drinking ginger tea and do all the press that Wayne sends me in relation to Meldrum. It strangely elevates me.

Back to Therapy….sigh….

They are all going to tell me that I need to be medicated and as always I will reject it. Its funny when I think back to all the drugs I did when I was so young that I was barely bleeding and now that they are offering them to me?  I turn them down.Perverse as always.

All I can do is keep running and cover all the mirrors. Eat clean and listen to The Stooges. Write more. Prune what does not serve me from my loud existence. Sell my belongings and flee back to Marcus at The Cat Place with my Bass and rig and make lots of noise. Write,write and write. Run again. Run some more. Sweat till I see stars.

Keep my head down.

The wheel has to turn. Don’t let the ones around you pull you down.They would have one hell of a hard time of it. I’m like a fucking jumping castle with a cunt. This much fat always floats.

Stay gold fuckers.