I wonder if the cat knows I'm insane?

I wish I may I wish I might

Geeez.

It would be so great if I could throw some new pics up. I just wish Blogger would have made it easy to do so. I mean it would be so cool if I could just find some random icon of like a picture or something that would allow me to just click on it and add whatever Goddamn picture I wanted to.

Um. Wait a minute, what's this do?

Okay... So now that my Blogger prayers have been answered, (thanks Hepcat) I just thought I would post three quick pics of the three women I'm in love with.

Maybe not incredibly entertaining. But sonofabitch, I'm really happy to be able to post some pics without hitting up Picassa.

Opening up

I began to write today. Who knows how far it can go. My attention span is lacking. As well as my motivation.

But damn, when I think about what I hope to share through my story may end up to be entertaining. Or insightful. Or not.

I may occasionally post where I'm at. Only if I can keep it up.

An Auto Bliography
by darekaaron



Standing naked, bent over, arms on sink. I’m looking into my own eyes. My back really hurts. Right in the spot, (upwards and slightly right mid-back). The spot that began hurting years ago when I’d partake in numbing quantities of speed, stay up for a night, or three, then it would feel like a knife was jutting out from my shoulder. “You haven’t had an ordinary life so far,” I say, bent over the sink searching for the knife. “Your blog says a little about you.” And it does. “But why not write a blog in a book?” Sounds interesting when I talk about it. I tell friends the stories. Not made up stories. Not a million little pieces to gather and pick up. Maybe more. And they always say, “JESUS, you should write a book!”

So here I am.

The belief these words could ever get published is not a belief at all in my own personal opinion. Even if I actually finished something like this, I have a hard time buying the fact it would be interesting enough to read. Not unless I spilled all of it. And all of it would involve naming names and outing secrets. I could care less about my secrets. But what about my family? Friends? Who would get hurt?

I don't really know what I hope to accomplish. I just want some peace.