death

0-100

0
I have this unstable process….
I go back to the shit town with the criminals
and I fall for it, that, the other, and become a bitch brother.
I stay in bed reading, not much to do there if it´s not good things.
Yet again, I´ll remain just sayin-my choice.
100
I get a call this morning, my mother. She is in the last stages of cancer.
Yesterday, she was vomiting. Not good. Me in bed feeling sorry for myself
because I went back to alcohol and drugs…hear? Feeling sorry for myself.
I get the call next day, put that in a shelf, jump out of bed, call the taxi.
I can feel the shift in my mentality, this is my important and sad reality.
Do I cry? No. Does my mind goes in a state of relaxation? Yes.
Weird that it is relaxed right? That is how it works if not I fuck up,
relax, get back to mothers house while talking with the taxi driver and
nudging her to speed up a bit by the way, either that or I my highway.
See mom, and with a smile on the face I tell her that my pants are clean.
She laughs, I know the seriousness but what good is it to be in crying-ess.

I go to 0-100, does not serve well in the overall life scheme, but in this situation
in any situation that death is involved, you better have a 100 percent not pussy cat
near you. And that is the only thing I know about me for real.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

What a day

Over cast skies,
raining flies.I´m too much used to be hospitalized,
but, this time is not my demise.
I´m not use to be the caretaker,
in the army I was the undertaker.
Mother mother don’t you see?
Unfortunately this is now the life to be,
hard to be the caretaker, I can now understand
what a tough you creator.
What a day… It´s my duty, so don’t worry,
till the last breath you’ll be laughing
and in good hands with this strange “kid”.
Why are you surprise that I go from 0-100
when the time is necessary?
Don’t worry, I’m more worry than you,
it has to be the moon is blue…
I don’t know why I can compartmentalize the soon to be tragedy,
and make the day funny, a unfortunate gift, people think I don’t care or
I´m not aware-of, the gravity of this fatality, but:
that is the way I get the job done
and only for the special some.
Although I’m mentally drained, what fucking day.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

Jail time

El ¨Chabolo¨, that is what we called in Spain, a cell.

Let me tell, obviously not proud of it, but,
In that type of environment I could be not content,
I was there, my army experience helped a lot in those situations,
It was nasty, punks.

First time I was placed in a cell,
I went again to hell.
My job is to keep me alive, my bunk bed body was or still is,
a drug trafficker, if he is still alive, so that was his OWN cell,
he did want his respect, I did not give it to him, that is what I mean,
If i would be a pussy and let him fuck with me, then I am screwed.
Words fly.
He eventually had brain damage, I just hit the guy and grabbed his head
so I did pound it into the that object he was very fond of…..the bunk bed.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

I´m not alone

Can you believe that I can relate to some random guy in a YouTube documentary?
It seems that I do. Some people tell me to not to watch those documentaries,
but I do. Why? I have no rational explanation I can give you.

The documentary is about the 100 and first airborne division in Afganishit,
sorry, I meant to say Afghanistan.

This guy says,¨there is no job I haven´t done but I just get bored,
so I joined the army.”
Wich eventually got me thinking that what is wrong with me, did I need that
to feel like a man, or to just feel the adrenaline rush, or to kill, or…
there are a bunch of or… I´m just curious to myself.

If I really dig down in my soul
as to why I did two deployments. One deployment you are new, you want to prove yourself
and proof to the other guys around you that you have the balls to do the job, but why the second when it actually was voluntarily, they did ask pretty much the whole battalion who wanted to go, so why I choose to go? I have no idea.

I do remember those days as the best time in my life, because of the guys around me.
Obviously the tragic moments I´m not fond off.

Point being is what a fucked up head that I have to feel myself good in a environment
that is deadly. Still can´t figure it out after 9 years out of the SPANISH army.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

Lost man

He lit his cigars with burning bills,
after his servants made him his breakfast,
while he watched through the window the rain falling fast,
a wealthy man indeed he became,
although his mind was not the same,
the war tore his mind,
that was the only thing he remind.

He had money but nobody that loved him,
in the end he tied a rope around his neck,
and was always remembered as a wreck.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.