Feather

May i fly like an arrow of God until I'm gone

God's be damned, what a month.

Grandma is dead. Long live grandma.

The memorial was the most physical and emotionally draining experiance of my life. My family is filled with strong men, and to see them shaking while they read their piece, then crying afterwards, shook my soul. Literally. I had to keep everything inside or I would explode, and not in a good way. After all was said and done, the last remark annoyed me. It was the only thing that wasnt perfect. The reverend told us that that 'I know down in Judy's heart, she wants all of you to accept Jesus blah blah fucking triune god blah'. This really angered me. My grandmother could care less if you accept jesus into your heart. What MY grandmother really wanted is to us to live our lives to the fullest, and to be as happy as we can be and proud of who we are regardless of sex, race or creed. I ran outside after that and had a cigarette, And I lit one for my grandmother, because she smoked one time in her life and if she still did she would have had a cigarette with me to comfort me. Then i couldnt hold it and the dam started to leak. No one was around though so It was just me, my tears, and grandmother the wind. Even now it feels completely different, everything does. My life is changed. It was the first death ive had close to me. Im not close with many people, but I was with my grandparents on my fathers side. I cant imagine when my grandfather dies.. I have to take it. Thats what I do. Im a schick. We are a strong people. When nobody wants to do something, or someones taking volunteer's, we are there. Because it shit needs to get done, and we know that.

But the rest of the world goes on.

Im sick. I havent slept. My grandmother just died and Im having a hard time to cope. Here I am at work, because IM the one that gets shit done.

Everyone makes mountains out of molehills, while we spend our time turning mountains into molehills. Because someone has to.

And that someone is me. Im too important to stop. Its impossible to stop me.

Fuck your indecision, I'll make a choice that will benefit all of us.

This is what happen when your raised on the common courtesy. American Samurai.

The ultimate reward is honor not awards. Emotions negatively affect business. I dont even know what im trying to fucking say. Someone will see these and say that I'll never be a decent writer. Thats a fear anyway.

I must save face.

3-Faced and 6-hearted-

Funeral Songs

"Come on Up to the House" - Tom Waits

My dad said he wanted 'Time for Me To Fly' and some songs by Buckethead played at his funeral. Scary thought, I know, but if anything our exit should be more graceful than our entrance. Its giving me reverse anxiety though. Every time I hear Fly by Night I think of Time for me to Fly and then I think of my dad trapped in ashes. [cremation for us].

Im being morbid. And depressing. I want the Porpoise Song played at my funeral. The number one song.


My, my the clock in the sky is pounding away
Theres so much to say
A face, a voice, an overdub has no choice
And it cannot rejoice

Wanting to be, to hear and to see
Crying to the sky

But the porpoise is laughing good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye

Clicks, clacks
Riding the backs of giraffes for laughs is alright for a while
The ego sings of castles and kings and things
That go with a life of style

Wanting to feel, to know what is real
Living is a lie

But the porpoise is waiting good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye