Tag Archives: self loathing



Detained by my own self loathing,

I could not see past the mask that I had assembled,

Equal measure,

Comedy and tragedy,

The story of my life played out on multiple stages,

And in multiple dimensions,

Partially as defense mechanism,

Partially as undeniable stupidity,

For this open book that is my life,

Need not be censored,

Need not be less than what it is,

For you who stand in judgment of me,

Should, as Bob Marley says;

“Judge not, before you judge yourself,”

Acutely aware of my many faults,

Including things that you may not view as blunder,

I stand ready to embrace them,

And if you can not,

Then I must say unto you,

On your merry way,

Trot out of my life,

Like an unbridled and wild horse,

For you will never understand me,

You can never know me,

I am built on Shakespeare’s fatal flaws,

Shakespeare’s fatal flaws a guide map to the stage direction I call life,

And where you see weakness,

I find an ocean of strength,

I find a determined will,

To live,

To be,

To become,

I find virtue (and a little vice),

That now brings me to this,

A manifesto of my own accord,

A new manifesto,

A new life,

My design,

As intrigued by destiny and fate,

As determined by hard work,

Book ended by two parts of myself,


Sweet and innocent me (sweet yes, innocent, Judge not)

And then,

The darker,

More Mr. Hyde part of myself,

The voices of my past and present,

And the literary giants of infamy,

Hemingway; “Write drunk, edit sober” Key word; “Drink!”

Calling me to action,

Beyond my fatal flaws,

In spite of them,

Revealing all of me,


Without censor,

Without fear,

Without worry,

For I am,


and I am,


Faulty and flawless,

For me,

For you,

For us!



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The Enemy Within

Even Bach,
Air on the G,
Brings no respite this day,
From this cycle’s big bang,

An ever expanding colossus of terror,
Driven by the clash of my neurochemicals crashing,
Body drawn and tired,
Falling prey to the maelstrom firing,
Inside the faulty wiring,
You might call a brain,
I’m told I have one, one that I continually let victimized,
Succumb to feelings,
Of a personal xenophobia,
Save for the perpetual up and down,
Daily, weekly, monthly and yearly,
For twenty five years or more,
Unresolved childhood trauma,
Unresolved adult trauma,
Shall I be on trial?
For this contempt,
Of self,
Coupled with an abiding faith in love,
Loathe this cruel trick played upon me,
By me,
Seeking control, where none there can be,
Usually J.S. helps me deal,
With the B.S., of these days,
Fighting my nature,
Fighting systems that can not be fought,
Battles that reach within,
As I live without,
Where I can not nurture, serenity,
Save the calling from the Ether,
Supporting like a crutch,
This searching spirit,
More in need of a cuddle or a cradle,
The intimacy,
Which is the only thing,
That can or will mitigate,
Though never shatter the wall I’ve hit,
Since thirteen,
Countless cycles of possessed repression,
Where skeletons become ghosts,
Ghosts become haunting realities,
And reality becomes the Matrix,
For while I am no Neo,
I will follow my white rabbit,
However and whomever,
She may be,
That I may restlessly hide,
Inside the warmth of her smile,
Hugged, caressed and cajoled,
So as not to shut down,
By the simple words;
“It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.”

Fighting as I do,
Like Patton’s phantom army,
The enemy within.


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