Still Around.

I knew a genius once,
they talked of branches, failure, and the sun
I don't speak with the genius,
but I know I was the lucky one.

Stuck

Ever get that feeling you're stuck on a teeter-totter and there is a fat kid on the other end that doesn't look like he going anywhere anytime soon? It is one of those situations where you can't really move any which way without completely screwing yourself over. On one side there is mad gunmen waiting to drill you as soon as you step off. On the other a tiger pit waiting to skewer you. Then all you can do is stare at the little fat fucker and wish you had a redo. And not like "Can I be where I was ten minutes ago;" no it is one of those full blown rewind the time so I can restart my life. You just want to take it ALL back. Not just some of the stuff, the whole shebang. Partridge in a pear tree, start at square one, so maybe, just maybe you can become a semblance of what you think you should be or actually become what you believe you should be.

What do you do? Check out? Is that the answer you've been looking for? "The easy way out," some old man would say, or "We never expected this," some not too close family member might say, probably as ignorantly as possible on some obscure news cast. How are you going to do it? Pills? Seems easy, but you know better. Most overdoses from pills are violent, messy, and most importantly, painful. You might not even be able to keep down a lethal enough dose. Then you just failed again. Plus most people picture checking out of this world with some gusto or at least peacefully, not covered in vomit. Oh, how about that bathtub and razor-blade combo that is dramatized on countless made for t.v. movies. Eh, but then your left with the fact that someone will find you. That's great. You give up, and someone has to see you in a pool of diluted but still dark blood water and naked as the day you were born. Great image for them to be haunted by every time they close their eyes.. Isn't it bad enough you want to end it since all you do is cause people pain... obviously inflicting more pain and hurt wouldn't really be the best way. Maybe it is. Just one last bit of pain for anyone who gives a fuck about you but that is it, you're out. You could jump off something tall, but then you run the risk of being the most unlucky mother fucker on the face of the planet and surviving as a paralyzed person who fucking hates themselves. Best case scenario, they bury you in a Hefty bag. Fuck that. Okay we're down to a bullet. You know where the gun and ammunition is, load it up, dress sharp, and click; it's all over. After a big mess and a closed casket, people can forget about you and that little fat fuck on the teeter-totter can rot in agonizing hell. Do you do it? No. You can't. Somewhere inside of you there is that unselfish tick that won't allow you to go through with it. Or maybe you're just too big of pussy to actually go through with anything in your life. Finalizing scares the fuck out of you. Maybe you're just an asshole that wants the last word in everything and you've become so torn over the idea that it would be the biggest last word ever, but then everyone will talk and you'll be dead. So your response time will be shot to shit. So what now hot-shot?

You hate yourself. You've just invested serious thought about ending it all. But you can't. Hansel and Gretel never bread-crumbed this shit out for you. Slide down the teeter-totter kick the kid in the face and never look back. Live. You choose to live. Purge out the demons you have lurking in your head. Get yourself together. And milk the world for everything you want. Because lets face it. We all die. And most don't get the chance to pick. So go live your life, besides you smoke two packs a day, you're well on your way and you didn't even think about it.

Three Reasons Why I Am Amazing

#1 Chimichurri

Served with everything Argentinian. I prefer to cook meat in it, dip meat in it, and sometimes on a nice summer day, bath in it. This particular recipe will crank out about half a medium size bowls worth.

1. 1/2 cup coarsely chopped parsley
2. 6 tablespoons red wine vinegar
3. 8 large garlic cloves, minced (5 tablespoons)
4. 4 tablespoons oregano leaves
5. 4 teaspoons crushed red pepper
6. Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
7. 1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Great for baking things in. Cut it in half for more than enough to dip into.

#2 Grilled Cheese

Seems simple, but this is more about the art of the grilled cheese than the ingredients. TOAST THAT SHIT BEFORE YOU GRILL.<-- That is the whole reason this is here.

1. LIGHTLY toast the bread
2. Lightly butter (On side to be grilled)
3. Lightly buttered skillet
4. Toast butter side down on skillet
5. Cheeses (I like combos but knock you socks out, I also use shredded cheese)
6. Put the top bread slice on cheese'd slice (Cheese'd is a word, a good, good word).
7. Sprinkle Oregano on the top
8. Parmesan Cheese dust the top
- The Parm will brown making for a crunchier than typical Grilled Cheese
9. Turn over sandwich and repeat 7 and 8 on the new top
10. Remove god-like grilled cheese and consume

#3 Salsa Verde

This plus cheese, meat, and a tortilla and I can be successful on any deserted island. Great for hiding shitty cuts of meat. This one is about making it about 3 times until you find out how hot you like it. (Note for others: Pepper cutting = wear gloves, I speak from experience in soaking my fingers in baking soda and water for hours on end afterward).

* 1 1/2 lb tomatillos (Very interesting little things). I put weight since depending on where you shop determines size. Fresh/Ethnic Markets and they are about the size of regular tomatoes. Chain stores and they are about the size of a ping-pong ball. You'll have to husk them and then your fingers will feel about the same as they did after school in your friends' basements or garages.
* 1/2 cup chopped white onion
* 1/2 cup cilantro leaves (CHOPPED)
* 1 Tbsp fresh lime juice (I also add a dash of lemon) Citric acid helps preserve as well as flavor.
* 1/4 teaspoon sugar
* 2 Jalapeño peppers OR 2 Serrano peppers, stemmed, seeded and chopped
Pepper choice and preparation is where the magic happens. I usually do 2 Jalapeño peppers and a Serrano, 2 big 1 small respectively. Beat the peppers on the counter, a very nice Mexican lady schooled me on this once. Then slice, lengthwise, into quarters, seed them. In a frying pan with the lightest amount of olive oil roast the peppers. Add to the rest.

* Salt to taste

I blend the living crap out of my Salsa Verde and jar/bottle it. You can leave it chunkier if that is your thing. It gets better/hotter after a couple of days. Shake well and often.


If you do these right, you're on your way to cool.

Age

Everything ages. Even ages age, eras are born then crumble and die. Countries and empires share the same fate. Greece, Rome, Persia, whatever the hell Russia was; it doesn't matter eventually time conquers all. Time will conquer you. It is the one insurmountable fact, you are going to die. One day. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow; maybe you're already dead. Life doesn't always fade out when a person punches their ticket. Sometimes choices snuff that out long before the physical end. There was a kid I grew up with. A bright shining star in the world around him with a promising future ahead. Slowly, his star began to go supernova... white dwarf on red giant star. Someone with promise ends up climbing thirteen balconies to kill an old man or starts a drug addiction that only ends with an early grave. For what? A gang? Drugs? Pleasure? I don't know, and I don't really care anymore. I've seen a ton of stars come and go. The universe is looming with the darkness; empty slots where light once stood. The point is that we all have promise; some burning bright ambition, potential, or fate. But all it comes down to is when are you going to fizzle out and more importantly will you know if you already have?

A Promise

I will stop being the deadbeat dad of this blog.

I will write more to post on this blog.

I will write more for myself.

I will write.

I will.

Of Love

All of a sudden,
I have room to breathe,
room to see
that's not what I want.
You see?

Being alone does not compare,
to when your presence is felt,
on my skin
my mortal sin,
my mind directly focused on you;
to whom I don't compare,
my better half- quite cliche,
you're my one and only half,
to make me whole
my one to cherish
my one to hold.

Aftermath

Pulsing pain - rapture stained,
from neck to deck of salvaged wreck.
The price of pain too hard to feign,
un-tilled silence stumbles after
jagged violence binds the captured.
What has happened to all the laughter?