Make It Stop!!!

It's funny... I was just speaking with my friend Whitney this morning about finding an assisted-suicide doctor as to eliminate myself from the suffering.

No, I'm not emtionally in dispair, I just know that I am not as strong as Roger Ebert was. He publicly and somewhat cheerfully blogged about his illness and subsequent surgeries and treatment and still had a zest for life.

Publicly.

If his cancer battle is anything like my battle to live a somewhat 'normal' life with blindness and organ failure, then I admire his strength in suffering through it. I know that his wife Chaz was right there every step of the way and maybe that;s the key. This is something I do not have.

Doing this without either a safety net or a support system is suffering in itself.

No one should be made to suffer.

Absolutely no one should be made to suffer alone. At least with a tormentor, one has something to bounce pain, happiness (as twisted as it sounds) and emotion off of. I think about peaceful ways to go every day but just don't have the strength to make it happen by myself without it being very violent and making a mess.

The one friend I do have won't help me and Kervorkian is dead.

Well, I haven't checked Craigslist yet.

People And How They Suck

If you walked ten feet in my shoes, you would know how much of a horrible existence my life actually is. Yet, I still get up, get out and do more things before 9am than most people do all day with pleasure.

And without a seeing eye cane.


I am having trouble adapting. I am having serious, life threatening problems adjusting to this life, but I do. I have no earthly idea as to why, but I do. And I don't complain about it. matter of fact, there is no one to complain about it to. All of the weak-minded, weak-willed cowards that called themselves friend and family disappeared last year.

I take pride in knowing that I need none of them.

It is a bitch eating alone and not having companionship, but my mind and abilities counter with the fact that I never needed a crutch, and I like the fact that I don't have to answer silly questions and explain shit to make someone else feel comfortable and guilt free.

I don't get that shit at all.

I would tell y'all what I now do with my time now that all of the surgeries are over, but no. I'd rather keep some things to myself. I have learned not to reveal my innermost feelings and desires because unless you've been struck blind...

Wait.


People shat on me when I was sighted and had all of my faculties, they are no different now. What people do do is place upon you all of their fears and limitations and tell you what you can't do, then get all holy ghost surprised when you successfully blow your nose or wipe your ass.

Yes, someone actually asked and followed me to the bathroom last year to see if blind people actually knew where to put toilet paper after one defecates.

I shit you not.

I do have a series of surgeries scheduled for June, but know that right now I'm back on my grind, prepping for state board and re-certification exams so I can re-enter the land of the wage slave.


And me being blind ain't got a damn thing to do with nothing.


It seems that most of you folks are my true obstacle.

"I don't believe that there is a situation in life that would not benefit from people being more intelligent. Yet, I see people avoid using their brains like it is some dangerous exercise that will result in injury. Or they only use if for work. Or they let life/love/somedumbasssituationfromthepast punk them into thinking that they'd be safer just going along to get along (i.e. ignorance is bliss). Or they think that prayer/dogma/routine absolves them from thinking. Thinkers make the most money, have the best sex, eat the best food, and are least likely to be screwed over; so why, for fuck's sake, wouldn't EVERYBODY want that for themselves? "

My brother Lorenzo Gayden from Tha Sip' recently said that.


I can't agree with you more Bruh...

I Am

Definitely not that dude anymore...

The Beginning Of The End

I feel destructive today.


So I got out and ran on the lakefront path. That shit didn't help.


I went out and bought a sledgehammer with a 10 pound head a few months ago, I had plans on purchasing a used tire so I can beat that motherfucker to death and get some upper body strength training in as well as cardio.


I never bought the tire. I have nowhere to put it.


I got into a fight with some cat that lives in my building back on New Years Eve, and that was the last time I touched the thing. I wanted to go grab it and bash his skull in, but I knew he wouldn't wait for me... Plus I calmed down after building security pulled me off of his ass.


I gotta destroy something.


 I pulled my firearm out of storage back in January... I have no intent to use that thing. I will set up a range session when the weather warms up and I feel comfortable enough in my vision to want to go shoot. I have to qualify with my weapon in 2013 anyway... Nah, I don't wanna shoot anything. I feel more the need to use my hands. I'm a more physical cat.


I got a guy... My man B. Carter, whom I worked with at a postal plant back in the day who trained at this suburban, secluded bare knuckles MMA place. He invited me to a fighting exhibition one weekend where I was amazed and enthralled in the pure heart and rigidity of human men who chose to fight. 


The flesh-ripping viciousness and pure heart of men who looked as if they could never hold their fists properly to ever engage in fisticuffs is what took me. 


I saw big, muscular dudes get bent over and spill blood by smaller ones, and lean-bodied cats with relentless viciousness that made me fear their mere presence after watching them keep going even when eyelids were torn and bashed cheekbones swelled their eyes shut.


I've been wanting to do that ever since I witnessed it.


That's what I wanna do. 


I believe if I channel my hatred and angst into pounding my fists into the raw, warm flesh of another living, breathing human being will quiet the voices that call me to want to destroy things in other ways. I feel as if I'm running out of options. Lord, let this be it!


I'm getting older, and I've opened myself so many times over the years that the pain of being lied to, lied upon and emotional betrayal has manifested itself into me wanting to exercising those demons into a physical act. It's a thirst now and not just an urge.


After all of the physicality I've been through in my lifetime, I know if I train too hard or take another good, strategic blow to the head... 


I feel like that may be a rather glorious way of going out.


I've been pushed to my mental, spiritual and emotional limit. I gotta find a way to exercise these demons before I end up crispy-burnt up in a cabin somewhere in Big Bear by the hands of some random law enforcement agency.


Does my admittance of this make me a psychopath?

The Audacity Of The Villain When Hope Is Lost

I lost hope in people a long time ago.


It's time for me to tell everyone that I can never trust them. Maybe I'm the sucker though, because I keep opening myself up to people who are tit for tat, willfully negligent and petty. so bent on self encapsulation because someone else hurt them, that they hurt themselves and you in the process.


I am done with people.


I noticed that I put my shit on the line for other people just to get burned in the process a long time ago, but there is always something that makes me keep opening and extending myself. Not any more. Muthafuckers have used me for the last time.


Everyone feels now as if they're the enemy.


I feel as if I wish death and destruction on people and then act upon those that have used me emotionally and sucked up all of my generosity and spirit that I'd get further in life.


I totally feel what Chris Dorner wrote in his manifesto. Whereas I can't agree with killing folk... People should definitely pay for the toll they impose of others.


I think that's what I should do from now on, be the villain.


Every villain has this beautiful story of a wonderful life lived from the start and then there is an incident of such a devastating, spirit-breaking personal nature that turns them to the point where death is the only remedy to keep them from affecting others in a most horrible nature.


I feel my villainous turn coming.

Not Bad Meaning Bad, But Bad Meaning Good... I Think

I know that I'll never return to normal

But I'd like to try and do all things within my power and limitations to obtain as much normal as I can stand before my days are done.

I had a very good weekend.

Let me say that again that I had a damn good weekend. First time in a long time I felt that good and that comfortable with and around others.

It wasn't good because I hung out all hours of the night smiling, cheesing hard and laughing, lost in conversations about issues that mattered and stuff that didn't on one day...

It wasn't because the next night I was again hanging ten, breaking bread with people of like mind and similar passion, chatting the night away to the point where I never noticed any of Ray Lewis' seven tackles and one sack...

Nothing mattered about anything this weekend, and that made it fascinatingly good. I spent a weekend doing normal stuff, well normal in my mind. All of this was based off of a chance encounter, scant conversation and a keen eye for pegging my ass, one person made absolutely sure that the weekend for me would be one of comfort and enjoyment specifically without me being treating me like I belonged on the little yellow bus or in a medical isolation unit.

And she didn't want anything or demand high praise, recognition or a validated, notarized receipt of her doings from me in return.

That in itself put an extra special touch to my weekend because I learned from recent experiences not to open up to or trust anyone. I can never open myself to trust any one ever again. My life is too precious and short for me to let folk think that the things that they do doesn't affect me.

People are so self encapsulated, mired in their own steaming pile of emotional shit and fuckery that when someone like me cones around all socially open and naturally trusting, they end up continuously rejecting the love and trust that they hear songs about, read and write poetry about... The things that makes then veklempt viewing a romantic movie... They begin to callous and harden the very people or persons trying to get them to open by bringing them love.

And that causes hate and disdain.

I'm not going to lie. From what I've had to go through the last couple of years, the hate, contempt and disdain has built to the point where I can no longer be the socially open person with measures of trust in my heart and tons of patience. Just when I think it has run out and me being used up and discarded by folk that have no clue their cosmic footprint and I want to destroy the world...


Someone comes along and shows me different.

But I can no longer trust any fucking body. What do I do?

I almost feel sorry for this young woman. She has so much promise. She has no idea that I've broken myself in efforts to try to mend things with already broken people.


The future  has not been promised. I want to obtain normality again. If I can't obtain it, I want to get close... As close as I can. I really enjoyed my weekend. I want more, but I know eventually, a demand will be placed upon me not very different from the others. The others have selfishly raided me of all of my compassion and trust by serving themselves and demanding that I hold their baggage with no reciprocation of what I gave.

What makes the weekend with this person whom I felt comfort with (like the others initially) any exception?


And yes... I know this is a fucked up spin. Hanging out with and emotionally fronting for fucked up motherfuckers will fuck you up in return.

Dope Encounters Of A Focused Mind

It's been a difficult month and a week since I last did this...

As of this post, I've been actively blogging for ten years. I don't feel any significance behind it, so don't congratulate me. There have been gaps and times where I should have written something, but times sure have changed since I started doing this cathartic act, trust me. I don't apologize for the blank spaces. Think of all the times I've been absent from my own thing as times I was either too tired to act or moments where I should have been doing something else and no lesson was learned.

It's a different process for me these days. I've barely settled into my legal blindness and now I permanently exist in the realm of uncomfortable... I use speech-to-text software to do this here thing, and while one would think it would be easier to just say shit into the mic and then review it before hitting the send button, I've found it difficult in just saying anything and pass it off as a 'Hassan-ism', so fuck that.

I don't know how and where I get the motivation and energy to do whatever it is I do, but I do them. I don't have much to live for, everyone in my life are these scared, fearful people who don't know their value or purpose in their own. They stumble through life with no real direction or clear focus and look to me for leadership and validation in these aspects. This saddens me because one: I can't give that to them (they must define it themselves) and two: I never got the chance before, during and after the sixteen procedures performed on me in 2012 to (rebuild my eyeballs/save and stabilize my sight) to rest and recover. I am physically and spiritually drained because those people continue to relentlessly drink up all of my life's emotional Kool-Aid, never wanting (or even volunteering) to refill the pitcher. I now have mere drops of which I have left to quench my own shit.

Everyone else stays away form my stankin' ass. I'm thankful for that! Few know that I have necrosis of the kidneys and that my days are numbered. Only one person (and now you too, Dear Reader) knows that I gave up medical treatment and am now (successfully I might add) using the Gerson Method to ride out whatever I have left in this adventure called life on my own two feet; on my own terms.

Or at least that's what I hope. One never thinks of falling into a coma or being bedridden until the end, not being able to do a damn thing about how they go to glory  I say to hell with that notion! Try to have control over how you go by being in enough of a condition to control when you go by doing right by yourself in the now.

I truly believe that there is a way to go correctly, and that is to come correct. Ending one's ways of bullshitting self will do wonders for you. I stopped bullshitting myself a couple of years ago in thinking that I was going to live this charmed life of marriage and family, and that I would have my health and would would have my family around my deathbed, holding my wife's hand as I give my final words to my then-grown children in the true meaning of life,,,

Get the fuck out of here with that bullshit!!!

Gone are the days where I have this arrogance in thinking that I have time. I can no longer procrastinate. Never had it in the first damn place! I never thought that I have my youth ahead of me because those option really never existed for me. Ever. They don't exist for you as well, but what can I tell you?

Most of y'all think that you can just wait things out until the storm clears. Some of you even have the mitigated gall to believe that some mystical, magic being will eventually (if you talk to him/her long and hard enough in your head) will do it all for you where you never have to put in any real work or physical effort. So you wait. And do nothing. And have no plans. Well they exist in your head, and that's about it. You never act on them. And you grow old in your waiting. And you never do.

I can't wait for your stankin' ass because I don't have that much time.

I'm already spending it doing things that matter with those that value what they have, the few that are. I am now busy doing bucket list type shit, enjoying every second confident about when I eventually die, my last moments spent will be me going "WHEW!" rather than lamenting on the fact that I did not live during my lifetime.

Fuck your job.

Fuck your car payments.

Fuck the bowling league.

And fuck your couch!!!

The PTA is cool - Go see your kids in that God-awful stage play or soccer match and cheer loudly.

Other than that my friends, you can catch me when you catch me. I'll be around, but I'll have my hands full doing stuff.

You know, shit that matters. I'm experiencing such dope encounters... My thang is focused. I still function pretty damn well for what I am. Might as well use it in doing than losing it in not even trying. 

And it doesn't have to matter to you. I'd hate to make you late for work tomorrow,