There’s an intensity that leaves nothing but a vacuum behind it,

A bullet hole wasted emptiness drags into a crater shocked from hit after hit.

Temporal fracture points and blanketed waste lines,

Maddening shallowness where no sparks can be refined.

They’re just words put to words put to words,

Shredding thoughts until there’s no meaning left and the musicians are missing the chords.

Scream, whistle, shriek, whisper, mutter, babble,

Consume, read, absorb, listen, digest, dibble and dabble.

The air crackles with the clutter of a thousand ideas,

My brain is burning from a million needs demanding release.

Every nerve is a blasted land of agonizing pleasure I grovel and ask to relive,

I’m in love with the rage, the energy, the uncontrollable beauty of power it gives.

All the information is useless in the end.

What point when there isn’t a person to converse with I’d call friend.

You fucking people drive me crazy.

I make myself manic to the point I can’t move, comatose and lazy.

When thought is so painfully fiery that no more can be endured,

I lay back and pray that the end will crack the chains to which I’m moored.

Let my mind wander to the lights above and send my soul spinning,

Beyond the grasp of this inane insanity,

To something meaningful that wil­l make my heart beat for something more.

Optimistic Insomniac vs Sunrise

There is a remarkable moment,

When we are first kissed by the morning.

A blaring trumped of visual inspiration,

Reliably pulling back the insanity of night.

Elegant bands of color paint the bellies on each cloud,

Demanding that the world awaken,

To rise and face each bramble laden choice.

Blue light blazes into existence,

Everything impure crumbles,

Sentience reclaimed from the endless void of sleep.

A sledgehammer of focus,

Turning man and creature to frenzied behavior,

Hoping that there will be enough time to finish their tasks.

To survive, to indulge, to extend further and further,

Beyond the necessary requirements for existing,

To satiate something primal.

Ideals will be supplanted with those corruptible ideas,

Goals become distorted for excess and stress for accomplishment.

Yet –

Occasionally one will pause to recline,

Observe the infinite overhead panel of cosmos beyond the fuming sun,

Adjust their perspectives.

To rethink the order of priorities,

Place prominent something larger.

To rise and crest with an exquisite jewel warming the soul,

Stand outside the shade.

To breathe deeply of the stardust life is crafted of,

Reflect back the beauty all around,

Until they themselves glow.

A moving mass of living light,

An answer delivered to morning question –

“What am I capable of?”

In The Yard

Blistering heat from a liquid sun,

That has burned up thoughts,

My eyes, their soul and my fun.

What brought on this sanguine approach?

Lost crouching and encroaching on sad joys and lost hope,

I’ve spun out my wheels into newly made glass,

Sand heated to molten,

Razing a shimmering patch.

Skidded to halt over stones constructed as ruts,

My misery shines through soaked in blood, tears, and guts.

Systematic breakdown of holy while high,

Head snapping, throat shaking, body trembling, while I –

Stagger to golden notes,

Choke quietly on the last strand of hope,

Chase goals through my screams,

Praying each daymare fades to a dream,

Balance desperately on life’s beam.

Stable for now,

Scared to say how.

Each breath shoves me closer to the edge,

Welling up my sweet desperate pledge,

To my kids and myself –

“I’ll change this life to a road followed out of hell.”

My mind and spirit can shatter,

Leave me mad as Alice’s hatter –

And though clouds block her burn,

To touch that blistering heat of our liquid hot sun,

Is to what I aspire and yearn.

To Procyon and…..

Hypothetical antithesis lulls the horrid monsters of time to pieces,

For lo, though we design the bitter steps of steel with grave intent to last,

The winds of history beget naught but mystery, shall spread their remains across the past.

So run your numbers now sweet child, and create the fabric clocks,

The ticking and the tocking mark a ship slowly rocking as it lands at destiny while docking,

For an apex it  has achieved, a rising top it hits before the next embarking.

Across the wicked ocean of reality, into storms of worms that bend the mind,

The crafty little wave runner has hit warped road that leaves their direction blind.

But now crew member drops their head in sorrow – this was their destination,

For all roads, and waves, and currents, and flows, lead to where they may have experienced fabrication.

That central depot – the manufacturing shop located just north of Betelgeuse and a few parsecs from Procyon – the final destination.

Note: Semi-stream of consciousness edited for grammar so it’s a bit more coherent. Meaning? I’m skeptical…but read out loud it has an interesting rhythm.

Cruising the Edge




Sustaining the willingness to push on past the point when any rationale person would have long ago said fuck it is a trait that I still can’t figure to be an asset or a curse. I’m typing a blog post because I’ve saturated the template folder at work with new email platforms, reached out to a couple dozen old contacts who are going to be wondering what happened since there was that strange rumor for awhile that I had died. The fact that it’s 2am, my girlfriend is furious with me, I’m still going strong, though questioning how coherent I’ll be at the office tomorrow, makes me quiver in delight at the prospect of more. It’s all bizarre. There’s like a weird, near state of ecstasy, which I’m sure is mildly exacerbated by the kind doctor and their recent adjustments to help moderate the torrent of potential true mania that no one can keep up with. Even if I am still wound up like a band, it’s nice to know that I can direct it. Phoenix Advocacy was a dream with high ideals and a proud concept – but directionally failed horrible since we could never get on the same page or stay inline.

I never intended to blog about work. Hell, it seems to be consuming my life already. But that’s a good thing right now. It honestly feels like a warm embrace – purpose. Sadly its likely to week out those in my life that are not so understanding about the intensity that I have to approach it with. For various reasons, it’s crucial that everything that carries a positive tone in my life be attacked with feverish passion. I’m so sick of letting those wonderful moments in life slip through my fingers.

As the man in the photo stands on the ledge, so do i feel sometimes. There is an inevitable precipice of potential failures if I don’t press on, fucking drive with everything I have until there’s bloody stumps where my neural stems used to be in my brain. Until my body collapses because I forgot to eat for a few days again. That’s just life. There’s a small genetic coding marker I’m convinced that is stamped on some of us that just simple says – dial only goes “o” or “100” no middle available – for the amusement of those around us.

We don’t even have to relate it to work – how about exercise. Last year around this time I was pressing for 1600 crunches every other day, and 400-500 push-ups every other day, with weird yoga in between. Totally insane…all or nothing, but I loved the results. You can’t argue with results is the thing. And doing it like this, there are always results. There have to be. I used to jokingly tell people in various situations, take joy in your depression – embrace who you are. Take no shame in it. It’s exactly what you’re supposed to be – and at that moment even when it seems out of the ordinary – the world is a matter of how you (or in my case per this now opinionated column) perceive it.

2015 - In Shape

To top it all off there are some terribly frustrating issues with my ex-wife and my kids. What I don’t really fully understand is how some dirty goddamn fucking gutter punk with the last blast still still stuck to their lips can show up at their BM house and just ask for the kids and they get them…where I’ve gone through the whole fucking legal process, have a freaking order and I still don’t have any recourse with this to make sure i can physically see my little ones. It would make sense if I was violent or something like that – but that’s not the case at all. I can understand her disliking me…but she honestly wants me to die or simple vanish and never reappear in the lives of these kids. I’m amazed. Its remarkable the depths of rage that can be found in the pits of someone who at one point professed profound love for you.

So regardless of that, just one more contributor to the swirling nonsense. The tally of events being dealt with in a positive sense: generators to Syria, Ambit for Mike, all this education and networking for PI taking top priority, assembling ADF team to start acquiring homes to build company around (minimal involvement other then spreadsheets and validating decisions), paying off some long overdue financial obligations – hopefully moving in the next couple months) – on the more negative front, Wareham, individuals, Gina, Alanna, Misha, and Nichole….can’t please everyone…maybe it’s time to just be alone for a bit, we shall see.


Stand on the edge, embrace the winds of madness and passion that would push you over.

They hold no power when you welcome them in.


The Initial Week

There’s a vibrant and intense flow of energy that reverberates through the office space. This is a start-up company with a team of individuals that are inspiring, damn near intimidating in their blinding intelligence and drive. Rather than the typical office environment with individuals nearing the end of their tenure who have become jaded with the efforts they’ve placed into work – each individual here is driven with fire and energy to succeed at any cost. It helps that their youthful. At 29 I feel like I’m nearing the elder end of the edge of the age bracket. Another oddity.

But what the hell right? I’m burning my candle as hard as I ever have, with 13 hour days including the commute. Drinking information from a fire hose and attempting as best I can to lose the “head trash” that I’ve picked up from years in enterprise sales environments. I’m wearing a fucking hoodie to work which is a strange contrast to the expected button down and slacks. I’m honestly not sure what to make of that experience. I’m coming from a background with meetings in Manhattan, Washington D.C., Philadelphia – the expectation was always that you showed up dressed to the impress. It’s intriguing that I have any focus. I’m almost a little disappointed honestly. I’ve worn street clothes for so long I was looking forward to dressing in something different. C’est la vie.

All things as they are and ignoring the bloody clothes, this is amazing. The people are remarkable. I’ve never encountered such a uniquely talented, smart, driven, just naturally crackling with fervent thoughts and the ability to materialize them into reality. I’m stupified on a second to second basis. I find it nearly difficult to be myself, because I’m awed by those I’m surrounded by – I’ve never been in such a position. Looking at it, assuming that it stands as the normal period of acclimation, then in two weeks it should be smoothed over and everything will be normalized. However, I fully expect to continue my state of respect for these individuals. My boss, the founder, the individual who advocated for me – I find myself truly in a state of humbled idiocy around them which is exactly the opposite of where I need to be. Soon enough I hope to crack back into the individual that they hired – myself. This will be an interesting journey.

From the actual sales side…I can’t wait. There’s an audience out there…I hope they let me off the chain a bit. There’s so much beyond just the direct email campaign. Huge projects with direct interactions at the larger companies…longer timelines…but I can feel that weird itch I always get when I start building strategic connections and putting the dots together…I love every second. This is an amazing opportunity. As the ink says, “Failure is not an option.”