Tag Archives: Death

So Without Grace…

I’m tired of living with such a black heart where emptiness and rejection are all that’s ever allowed in.


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Sepia and shadows.

At Spring Grove Cemetery – October 2014

I just finished editing a decent sized collection of photos at this cemetery near my home. A full time work schedule led me to delay them until I decided I’ve had enough neglecting the only thing I live for, the real work I love to do. So, there are more of these to come along with pictures from my second trip to Chicago I went to earlier this month.

The good news of this week is my brother having been called for an interview at the place I work, which I think has the perfect sort of work he could live with for a while. I may have difficulty with the place, but he’s far more consistent than I, and he has no mood disorder complicating this whole business of living…

All I can say is I’m glad to meet with my psychiatrist next Friday. I feel disturbed for having not said all I should have at my last appointment. I think I do need to continue psychotherapy, along with my medications. Therapy helped me in the way of keeping me accountable in what I decide to do. I’m getting careless now – all but quitting the choir, intensely wanting to quit my job and say no to trying for any other job opportunities. Very close to saying no to life altogether. And I don’t believe these thoughts have much to do with my depression or side effects of the meds. It all comes from a very demoralized state of mind. I hear the exhaustion in my breathing and see it in my eyes. I need help, but even this seems a set up to disappointment. There may be no help from the outside on this.

I’m really on my own.

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Words in return…

A rose I painted on a wooden keepsake box.

In Return

There, the letter rests unread.
A few more days, I’ll surely say.
Forever finds its ways, I say.

And surely, my words for you will die.
And the deep betrayal I feel for you inside
Will dream of you in tears of dark blood red.

And there
The letter rests.

I am making it a priority this weekend to paint. The past few weeks have been so busy and I feel like I’ve lost my voice and say throughout it all. Withering. That’s how it will end though. All there is is how I feel and if that doesn’t change, there really isn’t any hope. However it happens, I keep myself buried.

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Stay with me.


Things have gotten dark at home. I almost wish I weren’t surviving it all, alone with the chaos that goes on around here…I don’t understand continuing. More of what I’ve known makes so little sense now.

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First return, a capella.


Dead Season

A leaf,
Crinkled by
Mid-morning January wind.
You feel this as your bit of life
Present within.

So fragile in its grief,
The loneliness of sin…
Thrust into the awfulness of day
Wishing the end might be sooner to come.

To leave the rest behind as ruin.
For too open a mind – so undone,
There was never a faithful dream and
There is no belief in love.

Regular recording: http://www.official.fm/tracks/9AUh

My voice isn’t as deep as I intended in the video, but the recording is correct.

There’s a lot to tell. Stopping to write it out will come along soon enough. Monday will mark the 6th meeting of 10 for the NAMI peer to peer class. I’m going to miss the group once this is through. Despite how long it’s taken me to relax and speak up around them, I do make the effort.


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The Effort

A few more of the Chicago photos.

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I have so many new songs I’d like to share. But I’m fully wishing I could kill that desire–to share–because it’s a constant reminder of a need that will never be fully met, or even close. Not to just have something to connect with others, but to be worth something to them as well. I’m only reminded that my own efforts are rarely unmarked by disappointment for what it’s failed to do and where I’ve fallen short.

I need to return to a reason that truly belongs to me and start to believe in that again. The art, the songs I sing to myself and any little thing created…If I didn’t take part, I wouldn’t be here at all. And with that I guess I understand how important it really is to me still–being here at all.



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The most special, the most lonely.

This is a short video with clips of several art pieces from 2013. The song I’m singing is a partial cover, the second verse of Regina Spektor’s All the Rowboats, one of my favorites.

The year is almost over and I don’t feel bad about where I’m leaving it. I have a job I’m tolerating, my family is in decent health, I’m finally managing better my own mental health and have stuck with treatment, I continue to paint, I continue with my music and writing…Things could be worse and they have been. I’m grateful for the stability given of right now.


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