They tell me I'm worth more.

They tell me I deserve more.

They tell me I won't ever go back.

I nod. They're right. They can see this rationally, coherently, and clearly.

They tell me that I'll be able to finally put myself first.

They tell me it's over.

and I nod. Agreeable words roll off my lips. Are they satisfied?

I believed it.

But tonight a very loud and distraught person has awoken inside my head...and they are screaming.

For all this talk about better off, I was and it got taken away. Even better, I get to dig the grave and bury it myself. Maybe I'll put up a nice tombstone: "Here lies blissful, ignorant happiness - it was taken too soon".

But it's ok...I'll be happy....again.

Do you see the problem with that? It's the word again because I was.

And now I can't get back to that place where happiness resides, I feel like I went to get the mail and someone changed the locks while I was gone.

I know this is one of those "bad moments" that will shortly pass and more will come but with time they will dwindle in number until they are just an occasional twinge here and there.

That day cannot come fast enough, because right now all I want is to crawl into bed beside him, hear his laugh, and see his smile. I can't hear you telling me I deserve better over all this yelling in my head that's saying if I deserve more but this makes me happy then where is the point in all of this?

The long road to maybe not ever.

Sorry no smooth introduction to the subject matter....this one is going for the abrupt crash landing into a wasteland of despair...please brace for impact.

I have these friends that are a couple...and they are amazing people whom I consider part of my extended family. They've been together since high school and sometimes it's all I can do not to gape in amazement at the sheer togetherness that they have. They are the kind of couple that you enjoy just being around hearing their verbal patter back and forth that has such a weird yet synchronous rhythm to it. But sometimes it's a little hard to watch all that love and support flying around and not feel...completely envious. It's a little degrading to know that your happiness for their happiness is sometimes tempered by this small and selfish part that cannot get over the hurdle of "why not me?".

The vast majority of my conscience is well aware that nothing in life is ever owed to anyone, that expectations, no matter how great, will never just coalesce into reality purely by force of will.

But it's depressing to realize that good actions and abiding by that whole "do unto others as you would have done unto you" does not mean that the universe is going to uphold that one. It sometimes seems that accounting of good actions vs. bad actions is severely in the red, that there is no real benefit to being a "good" person except perhaps self satisfaction, and I can tell you right now that currently if surveyed I would fall into the "less than satisfied" category.

All this constant guilt I carry around, worrying about whether or not I'm hurting someone, letting someone down, not helping someone enough...it's useless. No one cares except me if I'm burdened by guilt and apparently no one but me suffers if I choose the moral high ground. None of my helpfulness, generosity, compassion, or patience have gotten me any closer in terms of building the kind of relationship I want to have, the kind that I see between these two wonderful people.

So what? Do I throw my google-esque "don't be evil" motto out the window and just live hedonistically? Send the guilt trips packing and shove everyone and everything to a lower priority than whatever I want?

I have another option. My friends for the most part have always been wonderful and supportive human beings that I am proud to know. So maybe it's time to cut out the fringe element that seems to be causing all these problems. Change the ultimate goal to one based more on self-reliance and satisfaction through other avenues. Because you know who has never let me down? Me. Maybe I can't trust people, animals, or the general moral accounting practices of the universe but when it comes down to it we enter and leave this world utterly alone...the rest is just filler.

The Bixby Canon Ridge

I descended a dusty gravel ridge,

beneath the Bixby Canon Bridge

Until I eventually arrived

at the place where your soul had died.

And barefoot in the shallow creek,

I grabbed some stones from underneath

and waited for you to speak to me.

In the silence, it became so very clear

that you had long ago disappeared

I cursed myself for being surprised,

that this didn't play like it did in my mind

All the way from San Francisco,

as I chased the end of your rope

'Cause I've still got miles to go...

And I want to know my fate.

If I keep up this way

But it's hard to want to stay awake.

When everyone you meet

They all seem to be asleep

And you wonder if your missing the dream

You can't see a dream

You can't see a dream

You just can't see a dream.

Going Nowhere....Not So Fast

I'd just like to preface this post with the following information: I am currently sitting at the local pub drinking by myself...I'm able to do this because I can now walk to the local pub, and I can now walk to the local pub because I have finally moved out of the caustic urban mega mall that is the suburbs and into the big city.

It's been about a week and a half since the move and from the limited time I have spent here I have made the following observation: the pedestrians here seem to have only two variable speeds: running and strolling. I tried to walk at a brisk pace the other day down to the liquor store and between getting stuck behind the stop-and-smell-the-roses pacers and the get-out-of-my-way-I'm-fucking-fit runners I got nowhere fast. It's annoying even while driving, because anytime I have to turn that's when the fucking strollers decide to cross the street...mostly while staring at their shoes and apparently counting the fucking stones in the asphalt. I'll wait until they finish meandering across the street and as soon as I go to step on the gas here comes the fucking runners out of nowhere. If pedestrians are allowed to cross a fucking street all willy-nilly then they should either wear helmets or it should only be a small fine if I happen to take them out at the knees with my windshield.

But seriously though, it's the runners that really get to me.

I'm sitting here, trying to enjoy my cigarette and they're swooshing by like a pack of obnoxious herd-like animals with running shoes, practically screaming "look at us! We're fucking athletic aren't we?! Look at you just sitting there on your ass like a derelict of society...get us some fucking water and make yourself useful will you?"

Luckily, the convenience store down the street sells trip-wire...I mean fishing line.

All Out of Rope.

......and if it had a chance in hell of working, I'd take the dullest razor blade and slice my wrists into ribbons and let the blood escape. 

......and if I thought it might make you stop,  I'd crack my skull into a million pieces just to show you what I think. 

......and if it would provide a possibility that you might finally desist, I'd mix a deadly cocktail of amphetamines and send them singing through my veins.

If there were anyway to just shut you up I'd choose any death at all just to stop your voice from damaging me, like acid to my ears. 

Cover Letter

K.Reynolds

katharosblog.blogspot.com , internet

kreynolds@gmail.com

Dear Hiring Manager,

I'm replying to a job your company posted on kijiji.ca for an Executive Assistant (which I would be perfect for), but there's something I need to discuss with you first: honesty. See, here I am sending you all of my personal information right there at the top of the page being all completely transparent and you won't even tell me what company it is I'm applying to! What is this, the job opportunity Mystery Box? Did you ever consider that I might have a few requirements that YOUR company might have to meet? (Already you should have an innate desire to hire me because unlike most applicants, I have standards). Job interviews are like blind dates: neither of us really want to be there and chances are one or both of us is going to end up disappointed. So let's be up front with each other shall we? You meet my salary expectations, but to be quite honest I don't care how big your benefits package is...could we exchange that for coming in late occasionally? And while we're getting down to the nitty-gritty here, what's your policy on office supplies? Are you going to get all possessive on me when I sneak a few dozen packages of post-it notes home in my handbag? Speaking of post-it notes, how do you feel about lined post-it notes? Great innovation or creativity suppressant? I won't tell you which way I lean, but let me tell you I am passionate about the subject! And really, what else could you want in an executive assistant? I can clearly communicate better than you can company-who-won't-even-give-out-their-name-and-obviously-has-trust-issues and I have a slightly overzealous obsession with office supplies, can you say “hired”? Now before you show me to my desk, I have something I'd like to confess. I know you were trying to be all anonymous and everything, but I totally Googled your postal code and found out where you live and what it is you do. I'm not a stalker or anything, I just like to be well-informed. Which brings me to my next question, as a company solely devoted to promoting diversity how opposed are you to a few fairly inoffensive racial jokes now and again? I know it's not exactly “politically correct” but have you heard the one about the Mexican gardener?

There Ain't No Rest for the Wicked...

It's too bright outside...I feel overexposed. 

I love the night. 

Cast in deep shadows, nothing is certain. 

From far enough away, we all look like someone else.