Karma sucks!

I don’t know how my ex wife put up with me for so long. Some of the other women she knew about, some not. The first was the worst and most traumatic, her sister and it tore a family apart. But she stayed with me for six more years and still more of my running around. Toward the end, she would  very calmly ask me about my “girlfriend” that I didn’t deny but wouldn’t answer. By that time, the girlfriend was Amber.

I just split up with Amber for good this time over her cheating. My goal had been not to make the mistakes with her, that I made in my marriage. I did fairly well. But she did to me as I did to my ex wife, and unlike my ex wife, I couldn’t take it.

It makes each day very long and concentration a little tough when all you can do is think of your mates fucking around. It makes it very tough to be intimate after you know. The first time she did it was a little different, we were sort of broke up, but she didn’t waste any time. This last time was blatant. With a man I knew while I was out of town and she was drunk. That’s the one I can’t get past. We weren’t even fighting at the time, but she did it anyway. Then when she told me, it was in anger not originally out of regret.

I know what it feels like now and I don’t know how my ex wife put up with it for so long. Karma sucks.

A little about my new hairband song and a weasley lawyer.

I’m taking a little break from working on a new song, I call Forever. Though I didn’t intend it, it’s turning out to be very late 80’s hairband like, with a dark twist. I general try to keep my music a little fresher than that, but a little haidband music never hurt anyone. Unless you went to all the shows and were in the front row and are deaf now.

This time of the morning yesterday, I was already half drunk and getting ready to testify under oath at a sworn deposition. It actually went well. I may have gotten a wee bit hostile with the other side’s fat little weasley attorney, but I made my point and he got. I think all attorneys should be women. They all dress nice and there wouldn’t be that testosterone thing happening when getting quizzed about irrelevant shit.

Anyway, back to my new song. I’ll put up the lyrics, or a modified version of them in poem form later. As soon as it hits 9:00 am, I can turn it up a little without driving the neighbors too crazy. They’ve yet to complain, but I know they hear it sometimes and it is a tad early in the morning to get too loud.

My beer is empty and I need some pills so I’ll take care of that then back to axe weilding (guitar playing). Lyrics or poem version a little later.

It’s done for good.

I have let her go finally and for good. No more of her shit.  She cheated on me twice, and twice I have resorted to  violence against the guys. Both ended up going to the hospital and that is wrong. The last one will take some rehab.

So no more of my cheating woman. No more heartache, no more second or third or forth chances for her. I do love her, but she is poison to me. And she can’t truly love me, or she would not put me through this. And twice even.

I’m moving to Fayetteville soon and all this shit will be behind me. And I’ll be closer to my daughter.

NO MORE!

How do you break the addiction on your redheaded Irish gal? The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and the most hurtful. I hate it! It is so fucking hard to let her go, but she cheated on me. My tears want to fall, but I force them back. NO MORE!

No more, no fucking more. I have a heart and it should not have a bulls eye on it.

I can live, somehow, without her.

Sleeplessness, betrayal, and attack ferrets.

She’s sleeping, I’m doing my insomnia thing. It’s quite hard to be quiet for her when you’re listening to Three Days Grace, it keeps getting turned up a notch, then another. But the office door and our bedroom door are both shut plus she’s used to it and likes hard music anyway. At least I don’t have my attack ferret yet to snuggle up with her and spead it’s little ferret stink. But that is coming. A little  lovable, terrorist ferret. That or another Maine Coon cat with the short legs and furry little tail and “pants”.

For some reason, Springfield Missouri has a shit load of Maine Coon cats. I wonder if Hemmingway ever lived here. He helped populate Key West and Havana with those furry little monsters. But his little Maine Coons oddly had six toes. Here in Springpatch, they all have 5 toes.

I wonder if my soon to be attack ferret will be able to get along with kitties, if he’s raised with them. I bet they will. I’m going to train him to run to the door when ever anyone knocks and stand up and hiss when they come in. I have an open door policy, during daylight. My friends just knock and go ahead and come in. I think a few will shit their pants if a little stinky attack ferret came at them and challenged them. I’ll also train my little furry terrorist to not really attack people. But if you came in and were faced with a standing, hissing wild animal, you might relieve yourself before you know it.

Back to my little Amberella, as I mentioned, I’m listening to 3 Days Grace and I never realized how much the song Over and Over fits with us. the song before has always seemed to fit with my ex wife and our sad but over due ending. But Over and Over, is like a picture book story of Amber and I. She hurts me to the core, but I love her and I believe she loves me too, dispite her, well dispite. I can’t help it. She knows me dangerously so and I can’t resist her. I’ve never been like that with a woman before. I’ve started to pack away all her ill deeds into a darkened grave, that will never, ever see the light of day. She’s learning not to bring her apologies, because it only gets worse then. It happened, it’s done, he got fucked up hardcore. Had to be carted in an ambulance to the hospital. I’m not sorry. She knows what happened, I told her. He put up a pretty good fight against two guys, until he got a stick in the eye. His hands both went to his eye then and he was defenceless and the mayhem began. Eyes heal, ribs heals, legs heal, but fear is forever. On the other side of the coin, her betrayal is forever too, that’s why I push it into a darkened grave.

Always, a poem of love.

A little poem from the heart of a fool, one of loves many fools.

Always

Always, I am there for you.

When you fall, I am there

Why you cry, I am here for you.

Even though you have broken my wings

devastated my heart,

still I am here for you and will catch you,

lay you gently down

and hold you within my arms,

wipe your tears

and conceal mine.

A resurection while shaving her legs.

Is it wrong to take her back? I’ve had a couple friends give me their views and it’s a split decision, so it’s all on me. Actually as it should be. One of them who told me to stay away from her changed his mind when he sampled the Irish dish, sitting on my stove, that her mom taught me how to make.

I don’t want anymore heartache, I can’t take it and I also don’t want to be without my little Amberella. She is like I was at her age, still wild and free. My best bet is not to tame her, but to let her come to me and she has. I’ve made it clear, no more infidelity. That will kill it, but if she needs to run wild, I can do that too. It’s not like I’ve slowed down that much anyway.

Maybe I’ll start bringing her with me when I go play music. Maybe I’ll start bringing her around my friends more. And maybe, the best option, I’ll start asking her what she needs. I love her.

I have not forgiven her, but I don’t want a day without her. So maybe forgiveness will come later. She’ll be here after her work tonight. Last night I shaved her legs for her and also what she calls “trimming the tree”, because it looks like the upside down top of a Christmas tree, and many miracles and gifts rest just beneath it.

I do love that little redhead and now it’s time for a little nap until she gets here.

A friend, drugs, music and Amber.

My buddy Chad came over a while ago and went to the pharmacy to pick up some stuff. He can use it right now, more than I. He drinks very rarely now, so he needs something to help, divorce sucks. But a little chemical happiness always, always helps, even if just for a while.

After he left to start the ball on child support from her, I picked up one of my guitars and started jamming. Screw the neighbors, it’s the middle of the afternoon, half of them are at work. I started writing a new song about and sort of for Amber, she may not like the full content of the lyrics, but it’s true and from the heart.

Right now, she’s my non girlfriend, girlfriend. That’ll probably change soon enough. I can’t resist her. Faults and all and indiscretion and all, I can’t stop wanting to be with her. I just wish she would not drink around the wrong people. And the “wrong people”, or person, received a severe payback. I just want to move on. If I can.

It’s time to go annoy the neighbors who are home a little more now with some very loud, very hard axe wailing now. I love my amp, it could deafen a rat 6 blocks away, if I turned it up. Which, by the way, I have one neighbor who is deaf, I wonder if he ever can feel the vibrations from my playing.

I swear that poem will be up here later.

A little rambling and a little about my daughter

I’ve had about an hours sleep and  I’m back up. Amber woke a little, as I got up, and tried to keep me in bed by grabbing at me and lightly wrapping her leg around one of mine, but she knows I don’t ever really sleep.

I have a poem for her running in my head, and I spoke about half of it to her, on the fly, as it came to me, while she went to sleep. I’ll post it latter, but now is about my daughter. She was not in my life, or actually, I wasn’t in hers for many years, but then I got divorced from Angie and started recapturing the life I had given up during our years.

My little girl will be 16 soon. Amber isn’t old enough to be her mom, unless you live in Tennessee or certain parts of Africa, and she isn’t her mom. Niether Amber nor I’ve ever live in Tennessee. I have been thinking of her so much lately.

A friend of mine, Chad just split from his wife and he hes all his kids, or monsters, as he calls them, he’s a lucky man. Which reminds me, my favorite term for other peoples kids is “little no neck mosters”. Some chick named Kate or something like used that in a play written by some guy who’s first name may have been mentioned as a state in the last paragraph. (god I hope you people follow me, there’s way more to me than it seems, and it seeps out in little droplets, I hope y’all know that.)

Anyway, I miss my daugter tonight. I have a world of my own problems swirling around, but all I can think of is her beautiful voice, and it’s precious sound. She sounds like a younger version of her mom. I’m going to call her tomorrow, after she’s out of school. If her mother doesn’t like it, fuck her. she’s my daughter too. Her mother and I have a long, bad history and she uses my daughter as a weapon and has this sick thing where she gets jealous of my attention to our daughter if she isn’t in the middle of it. It’s freaking wierd, but so is she.

Boy I know how to pick my women, from her to current, but a love for a child is far different, even when your child lorded over by an insane mother. My little girl, and I won’t use her name here, is stuck in a boarding school she hates, on the weekends she lives in a shit hole that I won’t describe because you wouldn’t believe me, sometimes she doesn’t want to talk to me, and that’s fine, I understand. But other times she’s not allowed by her mother, and that is wrong.

Her and I were in the process of trying to make things a little bit better after I was gone for so many years, it was going well until her fucking mother got literally insanely jealous of us talking and accused both of us of plotting against her. She’s a real fucking nut job, and she used to hit our daughter. She lost cutody once over it.

I feel it’s all my fault for not being there and as a fact, I’m sure I could have prevented many of the bad things that happened to her. But I wasn’t there. I am here now though, I accept my guilt and will take what my daughter throws at me from time to time. But I will not accept her mother interfering. I can’t do it.

Are all Irish women irresistable?

Are all Irish gals this damned irresistible? She taking a bath right now and says she just wants to soak for a while, then she’ll call me in to shave her legs if I want. Those gorgeous, well toned white legs. She is quite pale, except for the freckles.

Obviously, a mood flip has occurred here, it happens. Especially when there is a beautiful woman naked in your tub and her size 2 pants are in your hallway floor. Damned sexy little red headed Irish sprite, and she knows it.

There’s actually another “Irish sprite”, as I call her, that I know and am oddly attracted to. She doesn’t have flowing long red hair, like Amber, short, gray and she has a “life partner” named Sandy, but still for some reason, must be those Irish eyes and Irish soul. Most people think she’s mean, but she’s never been mean to me, actually very helpful. They don’t get her sprite-like since of humor.

Anyway, my Irish gal is naked in my bathtub with candles going and I’m just waiting on her call. Maybe some sensual music will speed up our little waiting game.

That earlier promised poem will show up sometime, and it will be a sensual one this time, not one of heartache.