Protectin' everybody's indivisibles or an ear for an ear.

Protectin' everybody's indivisibles or an ear for an ear.

simplesim0n

[	userinfo	\|	livejournal userinfo	]
[	archive	\|	journal archive	]

(no subject)

[Aug. 23rd, 2008|04:45 am]

"Ireland is a popular destination for global nursing jobseekers and many healthcare professionals have taken advantage of their right to live and work in Ireland. Specializing in international nursing agency, we offer full range of nursing staffing in Ireland including traveling and permanent nurse jobs, thus connecting nurses and healthcare professionals to the best nursing jobs all over the country.

With Ireland as an excellent choice of location to broaden your horizons as a nursing staff Nursing Staffing Agency offers professional guidance tailored specifically for the nurse and healthcare professional seeking their ideal nursing job."

kinda seems like a great option, no?

link

2 comments|post comment

(no subject)	[Aug. 15th, 2008\|05:04 am]
i was once a great warrior but NA dried up all of my ink
link	2 comments\|post comment

A thought...	[Jan. 10th, 2008\|01:47 pm]
I write letters to myself. The same letters that we all do. The to “to do list”. The “shopping list”. The reminders for appointments and “get-togethers“. I never write them in cursive. I never write them the way I would write to my parents with big words and well constructed sentences to prove that my unusable education has a use. I never write them the way I write love letters, with swooping S’s or signed “with love” at the end. There is never any poetic angle. You will not find a grocery list reminding me to buy a head of lettuce with the contours and colors that only my tongue can see. And why not? My small soliloquies throughout the day always include a touch of desire to live a more “poetic” life. To find every touch meaningful and every endeavor championing a hunger for the moment. And so, I want to learn to write love letters to myself. I want to think about them in such terms. I want to life to be an art. And so I found myself waking up this morning with the ambition of a painter sitting before the empty canvass of the day, which I rarely have, with all of life’s requisite responsibilities. I ran for fun. I ran 15 miles and let my mind wander. I let my emotions dictate gravity and know this because I’m sure that I floated for a few of those miles. I bought myself sushi and let the avocado sit on my tongue a little longer than usual so that my palette had time to dance like a stripper in front on my eager stomach. I had a glass of wine at noon and pretended that if I were eating sushi in Italy, this would be common practice. I started a good book while enjoying an all natural cigarette in the garage until my imagination left the words and I thought about quiet times and how rare they are and how rarely we notice them. “Do you believe in ghosts” “On TV yes, in real life no” and that’s the truth. I think the above was to remind myself that typing something does not mean you have something to say. I worry that art loses its function in that point, as I sometimes like the way the words look or feel against my vocal chords without regard to their immediate significance. This is also my problem with yoga and hiking and Dadaism and eastern philosophy as interpreted by non Buddhists. Shit, even Socrates was comfortable saying that he didn’t know anything and Kant retracted entire methodologies in his conclusions. Perhaps their words were meant to be flowers. Flowers are beautiful and then they die and decompose and then we are meant to gleam something else when they organically spawn another thing. That’s why coffins are important. So we will die without giving anything of the last thing we have to give and never return and the Cure will have something to swoon about. (Tying things like coffins and the Cure is neither telling or obvious.) I guess the over all idea here is that we all know this, so it makes no sense to intertwine poetry into every day things or thoughts because then we would never know what is really important or artful, like people from New England. So where does that leave me (or us)? Life is unrequited love? Ah, the existential dilemma. I have a friend who knows how to love without regard and a friend who does not know how to be loved but both desire it immensely. I like their situations. Both find tragedy easily and are constantly let down by the world. It is the pursuit of life that makes them wake up in the morning. It is an unexplainable attraction to the unknown. With all of its difficulty, it is tasting the avocado every time it touches their tongue. To me they are ultra-marathon runners who at times just need a change of shoes, not necessarily the finish line. I wonder if once in a while their grocery lists start with a dear so-and -so and are written in cursive. Its as if they both have bought the book and read it cover to cover. Like one of those books you borrow that just smells like the owner. There are stains that let you know if they enjoyed the words over coffee or a beer. The edges almost seem chewed on and there are pages clinging to the binding for life where their favorite passages are. Life should be so lucky to be worn so purposefully. For me? I think that I heard about the book and just relied on information from friends about how it ends. I guess I am more likely to just go to the store and hope I remember what I need when I walk past it. Sometimes I wonder if I should check out other aisles, or stop being a vegetarian. Don’t read to deeply into that. It very well could be that art and love are the notes written to yourself in cursive. They are yours. Written to you to remind you of what you need and the best way for you to interpret that. What you pick up is the manifestation of the art and love you live. Even more, sometimes, you need to learn the ambition of making something fulfilling with what is already in the cupboard. Either way, my next list will start “dear Scotty,” and will be written with swooping S’s, even when I know I just like the way it feels when I say it or how the words look on paper. … and to think its just a windmill most days.
link	2 comments\|post comment

(no subject)	[Dec. 20th, 2007\|04:26 pm]
Tiptoeing under storm clouds over the bodies we bury around our bed has made us martyrs both Both sacrificing self inside our heads And after feasts of force-fed guilt We put each other to sleep in whispers through wind tunnels Whipping “I love you’s” so swiftly you’d start to question the sentence And its integrity in its entirety hearing I love you I love I -------whoooosh------- And we become selfish enough to trade our I’s for I’s God knows we have enough faces The irony is when I’m asked who I’m seeing I say sometimes… Its too risky to see Who it is We are both pointing at I say sometimes you can see something for years And at the same time Rarely see it at all Though I’m careful not to mistake Averting my eyes for blindness Lest I lead my life like sheep off cliffs Despite the lack of ground Under my feats I think of Stevie writing Songs in the Key of something sort of shared as a lesson in self defense I mean, who could hurt beauty’s composer? It’s a rhetorical question like “What loves first, the mother or the child?” Need builds hearts like songs that never end And this is the Need that never ends So I write "isn’t she lovely?" On the insides of both of my eyelids And bat them when I see you I’m always swinging for the fences I meant… That is to say I take shots at your walls (and sometimes shoot alone for walls that should have (under)stood longer) And wail at them too And suffer for the other side “…like lovers often do” And storms like misery like company of strangers And like strangers whistle “weather tales” over whiskey flavored tounges And crack laughter like whips To submit a thunderous desperation That we’d rather be loud than scared Tricking us into believing that the mountaintop declaration Has ANYTHING over a breathtaking whisper We were never were but always are And I get stumbled up in our may be’s And I romanticize it, I know Making faces at the cosmos As their yesterdays shine off of our today faces I am wishing that I too walk constellations Bright enough for you to reflect some starry night Some time from now… Even years ago today is beautiful
link	1 comment\|post comment

(no subject)

[Jun. 15th, 2007|08:02 am]

In homage to an ATrain Post

A Comparison Between Christianity and early morning weekday television programing:

Both are far more captivating after a few drinks
No matter what story you follow you wonder if there is something better
Both become predictable
You wonder whether they actually think you are paying attention
There is way too much advertisement
I'm only making choices based on what is provided, not what I want
There is an urgency to subscribing now, because later it will be more expensive
Both are demonstrated alot more through violence and drama then love
There's a nagging suspician that there are better ways to spend my time
Jesus's name is used all the time
I've been brainwashed by both since birth
I have to pay for televsion, or I don't get it. I get Christianity for free but am told I'll pay for it if I don't subscribe
I don't understand the fascination with some of the things they show
They both get off on ritual behavior
Angela Landsbury lives in the most dangerous suburb in the world (ok... that's just for tv, but fucking hell, right?)
Both obscure the act sex.

That's all. Anyway, I'm going to try and post more. It helps me keep tabs and whatnot.   So...  to start... I am saving up for a bicycle. I really want to try out triathalons. I know very little about them and am both a terrible swimmer and a poor bicyclist. In the meantime I have three races I am really looking at. The first is a couple hours away and am anticipating driving out there by myself and driving back the same.  If anyone wants to make a deal out of it, I think it would be a blast. Its in late August around area 51 and starts at midnight. It has a 5k, a half, and a marathon. The awards go to best dressed alien, not fastest runner, and I guess the medal is done by some Australian artist that is making it all weird for that one particular event Sounds awesome, no?  The next is the Portland Marathon, and I will say this now... I am going to qualify for Boston at this run.  I have to come in better than 3:10.   So, that makes the third Boston.
Other than that? I took care of a very famous person last night. If I know you well, then just ask when you get a chance. It was kinda sad. Poor guy was losing it. Operation after operation in the waning years has taken its toll. He and I got to know eachother while he was still with it and I spent an awful lot of time just chatting with him. He detected a bit of east coast accent and went crazy for it. It was really beautiful to watch grey eyes perk up and feel ok about a poor condition. Got me charged. Anyway, this morning he was drifting hard and remembered me, but thought everyone else was trying to kill him. His words, not mine. It was the end of my shift and there was nothing I could do, so I chatted with him for a while, but could tell when I left that this will be a rough day. There is no better medicine that could be practiced. He is just at that point. I'm almost afraid to go back on Sunday, but if he's there I will be overjoyed. Unless he is is home. Then I will be ecstatic.
Poetry has lost me lately. You ever get in this place where its all there, just not ready for conception? Its all there. The god poem and even a running poem exists in fragments, just dont really have a point. Just a rant. I don't want to bleed it anymore. I want to move from the carnal to metaphysical without losing some sort of emotional communion. Anyway, soon. I really really really am planning a feature, but not in the conventional settings.  Something like a party. Something like having a birthday party, where everyone is there to celebrate, but we all get to blow out the candles and eat the cake. I gots me some idears. We'll see.
I suppose this is more of a placemarker for me, since I don't post that much anymore, but it certainly isn't a spotlight. Hope to see you all soon. What do I mean by soon? I dunno. Text me. I have tonight and tomorrow off. Kari and I are gonna get some wine and trade stories at my house tonight.  Prolly tenish.
Lastly... love you. I don't say it enough. Seems like we all got happy seperately and don't get to scream at the moon as much anymore.  Feel free to share mine. Its up there after dark. Again, Love ya.

scotty

link

6 comments|post comment

(no subject)	[Jun. 13th, 2007\|03:16 am]
i know i've been getting there over the last few weeks, but I think I'm coming to terms with it. Everything has been so loud. i keep racing. In all senses. i am missing something here. its all chains and leather and no romance. i was only anything for the romance. its time for a good long rain. the kind of dusk overcast that makes you think you are smart because you are drinking wine and own books and sitting in the denseness of a relaxing humidity, like carying a leaf at dawn, and existing a life instead of owning it. and you are. it is time for closing my eyes without expecting anything. it is time for slowly... slowly. it is time to be still. it is time to be still. i think i'll be quiet now.
link	post comment

(no subject)	[Apr. 23rd, 2007\|11:53 am]
Hi there. So, put in 3:35 on the SLC run. The city is actually a pretty hip place if your ever in the area. The fucked part? Went to Cheers. They have a cheers. I have met lame, defeated it and become its successor. Anyway... this evening Kari and I are gonna go to Hasslehoffbrauhaus at 7ish, and most likely have a beer. If that is the sort of thing you're into then you should join us. If not, have fun playing on-line roll playing games and hitting on your internet boyfriend/girlfriend lol, lmao, wtf, fbi. Many fun stories and lively conversation to be had. Certainly wont compare to watching your favorite Deep Space 9 rerun for the billionth time, but then again, whateva. So, come down and tell a joke in klingon or show off your new one sided dice. God is Love, Rev Rerun
link	post comment

(no subject)

[Mar. 12th, 2007|11:30 am]

Naturally, I am a fan of St. Patrick’s Day. There is something cathartic or beautiful about days to celebrate life or lives past in traditional birth or wake fashion. Though this celebration happens for most of us regardless of a date on the calendar or a time of the year, I am pleased to have my friends around me on a day that is set aside for celebration. In years past there have been awful traditions. Moving here, I have started my own. Ever since I’ve lived here I have started every St. Patty’s day with watching Boondock Saints and drinking Irish beer before starting anything. It is odd, granted, but it is ours.

I would like to invite you, my family, to my house to begin some good fun at 5:00pm on Saturday. I will schedule a cab(or limo or whatever based on response) to take us out after, unless there is a volunteer designated driver. Bring food, but especially booze. Bring your friends, but especially your close friends. I will figure out rides and heading out to Fado’s or the strip or whatever based on input and RSVP’s. Leave your cars here. If anyone gets too ambitious you are more then welcome to crash in one of my guest rooms or one of my couches.

I made it a point to work extra strange days to have this time off and would love to have EVERYONE here. I am open to suggestions over the week, but the aforementioned tradition must take place first. Believe me, it’s a party watching it because most of us know it by heart and like yelling at the screen and starting side conversations anyway.

RSVP is a must. I need to know what to schedule. Again, EVERYONE is invited, I just need to know how many will be here. Suggestions for the night excepted. Post or text so’s I know or text or call me. Plus, the English Beat on Friday. Heh.

Love and love and love.

Yours,

Scotty

link

1 comment|post comment

(no subject)

[Jan. 2nd, 2007|04:08 pm]

Though I do have tonight off, I just finished 5 days at the hospital and doubt that I will be even remotely functional until later in the evening. Good luck to everyone. On the other hand, I do not work a tuesday for a very long time, and plan to bring it next month. I can't wait. I am not setting an alarm today. I will wake up and get in an overdue long run, but am not sure when I will be done. Have really been in the ood for pool, so if anyone wants to hit up Mickey's late or something like that, text me.

New years at the hospital is weird by the way. It was odd that it was timeless and nonpoignant. Was around for the last death and the first birth, which didn't so much as put things in perspective as it did make me think about the value of examining the reasons that make us do so. Somehow, I think life doesn't get its just do's as simply being life worthy of its own course and substance.

Also, I disagree with the execution of Sadam, but I do believe he was a murdering tyrant. Not one broadcast discussed Neuremburg, though every one made the Hitler comparison. Interesting, no? Justice seems best understood as an excuse as opposed to a right. Any other murdering tyrants that should be examined? Hmmmmm....

Finally, James Brown did more for music than Ford did for the Presidency. Where you at now history channel?

Happy 2007. Feel free to "Get up-ah" and "Get down-uh".

link

1 comment|post comment

(no subject)	[Dec. 6th, 2006\|04:45 pm]
First... been up since 200pm on Monday, so excuse the grammer and spelling. I don't know what it is or why it is this way. I am almost giddy about the marathon on sunday. It has been a few months since I've run a marathon, but I think that time has made me feel more like a jogger and less like an athelete. I am not the most competitive person in the world, and am no where near a runner who could ever win a marathon. In fact, it is absolutely improbable to believe that I will ever be fast enough to win one of these things. So, if there is no chance at ever winning.... what is it?! I guess I only know it as a few things. I gain something of myself in doing what is seemingly beyond me. I find center and confidence through pain and the whole concept of living in only this moment. There is no future beyond the next mile, there is no past that will save or condemn me on the mile that I am on. Its just me and the moment and my head which cleans the slate. It plays off of my concept of revolution. It is finishing and owning myself again. I like it not for the control, but for the same reason that some folks feel totally comfortable naked. Like, the comfortability of owning, even for that instant, the peice of ground that you stand on. Meditation. Anyway, I can't wait to feel reaffirmed as a marathoner again. So, if you have some time on Sunday, and Saturday isn't too brutal, it would be great to have my friends share this moment with me. I anticipate finishing between 930 and 1000am. I am open to a few ways to celebrate except one, which is mandatory and now, tradition. First, can someone promise to be there with a Guiness and a camera? Just nail away at photos nonstop and maybe we'll get some free schwag from those folks or get a sponcership. That I really really need. Anyone? Anyone? Ok... past that... The finish is at Mandalay Bay, so I am perfectly ok with heading into a bar there and getting a perfect morning buzz giong. If this is too much, I am also ok with a little party at my house and just wasting away a sunday eating and drinking and having fun. If anyone has a better idea (ie- Fado's, housewarming party, saki and fishes) lets put it together. Last... I really really really really want some of you there. You know who you are. It would be sad if that didn't happen. Finally, let me just get this out and I'll let it go. After ripping the muscles in y stoach last week I a nervous about not completing the run. It has also been really hard to train effeciantly as I was initially training someone else and was not worrying about my time. I have really crunched in training and it has taken its toll with odd sickness and pain. Yesterday was the run to decide whether I was healthy enough to do this or not and I clocked 10m in 74 min with minimal pain. I gotta take this as a sign that I'm ok to run. So, pretty please, think, send, wish, good thoughts my way. I'll take every edge I can get. Hope all finds you well. I am going in all black for a few folks this year I wasn't able to be at the memorial. Josh? I'll meditate on you, find me in an peice of fruit or a buddhist monk if ya need to. Hope to see you all Sunday... as a marathoner.
link	3 comments\|post comment

navigation

[	viewing	\|	most recent entries	]
[	go	\|	earlier	]