What in the actual fuck

Day two of my cross-country bus trip is already off to a shit start. Firstly my bus in Vegas was supposed to leave at like 2:00 am last night. It didn’t. Instead, the motherfucker didn’t even show up until 8:00 am this morning, and we didn’t leave till like 8:20 am. Now all of the stops ahead of me are all way behind schedule making it so instead of getting into Denver at 6:55 pm, now I’m getting there at 12:30/1:00 am. That takes my plans and shoves them straight up my ass, making it virtually impossible to accomplish what it is I was trying to accomplish. I’m a little salty and am completely at a loss for what it is I can do to get shit back on schedule, if I even can. I had plans that required the bus to be pretty much on time if I wanted to do them, and even if the bus was on time I still would of been pushing it super close. Fuck my life. I’m at a lose. The only thing that I can think to do is hop off this bus and steal a car. Otherwise stay on the bus and show up to Missouri all half assed with nothing but excuses. I don’t like that at all. Not even a little bit. So as we cruise through the miserable state of Utah, I’m overcome with angst and disappointment. I’m unhappy as fuck now. Started out on a positive vibration and it took less then 48 hours to smash all that and put me in a funk.


Started out, my bus was like 2 hours late which at 12:30 am really sucks to find out. But my bus finally shows and my adventure begins. The bus is dark as fuck and fairly crowded so I plop down next to a sleeping Mexican and mumbling to myself, begin to try and organize my shit as best possible. At this point I’m feeling dread. Like what the fuck? I have to spend nearly 3 days on this motherfucker? This is gonna be rough. But I pop a k-pin and within the hour I’m passed out. Oblivious to the cramped space, comfortably enjoying my ride. I wake up in California somewhere maybe Sacramento or possibly the stop right before. I feel alright. My celly is awake. I mention that there’s no power plug-in spot and he shows me that it’s next to him. I ask if he minds me plugging in, explaining that I have a super long cord and it can go down under his feet. He plugs me in. He seemed like a fairly decent guy, kinda quite. There’s a couple of kids sitting across the aisle. I would call them hip-hop kids. They’re cool enough. They listen to some music which didn’t entirely suck so I got the name for farther internet pirate activity later. We get to Las Angeles. Somewhere along the line the hip-hop kids disappeared. In Las Angeles I need to transfer buses, which Pizzy had mentioned earlier he had some concerns with my ability to manage, so I’m hyper attentive to the bus situation. I would have liked to sent more time there, even an hour would have been nice. Next time. So with my transfer complete I’m headed east. Scummy ass Barstow California one of them, followed shortly by Las Vegas where I get an hour and ten minute furlough. I was looking forward to Vegas. I had no idea where the Greyhound bus station is in Vegas in comparison with the strip and so there was only a glimmer of hope that I would be able to hit the strip but I figured there would be some slot machines at the bus station to be completely honest. I mean, it’s Vegas. They have slot machines at the airport. Shit they have slot machines at gas stations. So boy was I surprised when we roll up and there’s no gambling in sight. I looked around a little and as far as I can tell this area is an industrial area with Jack shit surrounding me. Then time goes by which I finally begin to notice, it starts feeling like way past time for my bus to be here. I begin to fear that I missed my ride. So I go talk to the dude at the counter and he informs me that I haven’t missed my bus, it’s just been delayed. Until 8 in the morning. Motherfucker. Well, I’m a silver liner type of guy and so I ask the nearest rent a pig how do I get to the casinos? He tells me what to do and where to go and as I’m walking off an old man motions me over and hands me a bus ticket. A bus ticket that is valid until way after I need to be back on my bus to Misery. I mean Missouri. So like a high school girl’s dress on prom night, I’m off. Currently on the bus in route to the sin City. Fuck yeah. Hope I make my bus.


As I impatiently sit here waiting for this bus, hoping that I didn’t somehow miss it, I think about how this bus trip is gonna be a long one. I wonder about the route, considering all the possibilities. I think about the people I will meet along the way. Is there someone on this trip that I’m destined to meet? Why exactly did the universe decide that I would be making this leg of the journey via greyhound bus? Or am I being punished? Regardless I am about to have plenty of time to think about it. It’s crazy, prior to the last few weeks I had been on one plane, a one-way flight to Boise, Idaho, and one bus trip, a long as ride from Idaho Falls, Idaho to Denver. And in a two week period I’m gonna triple those numbers having flown back and forth from Portland to Denver and now with this round-trip bus ride to Missouri and back. In 41 years my public transportation experience is limited preferring instead to steal a car and take the scenic route. Kidding. Kinda. No I just haven’t had a lot of opportunities to fly anywhere what with me being a driver. I’m a badass driver. A professional. I do that shit. And I pretty much live in my car and have for years so it only made sense to drive. I wish that I could drive. Especially with my upcoming trip. At least if I was driving I could get there faster instead of the 2+ day zigzag cross country trip we’re about to take. If this bus even shows up. I feel like my ticket said 12:30 am and it is now 12:48 am so I’m starting to trip. And I’m cold. This shit needs to hurry up. I didn’t sleep last night opting to drive back to Gold Hill so I could change out my clothes and pick up the packages that Amazon delivered while I was in Colorado, so hopefully I will be able rack some z’s on the bus. My homeboy who I am going to Missouri to visit just messaged me and informed me that my bus has been delayed until 2:12 am now. Lovely. Even more time to think.

Trust issues

I learned a long time ago that there truly is only one person you will ever be able to count on and that person is you. Truth be told, everybody falls off. And so I have trust issues. It is crazy to me how unreliable and shady the general public really is. It used to be that all you had was your word. They can steal everything else, but your word was yours. Nobody could steal that shit. And so it actually meant something. At least to me it did. It does. But I guess I’m alone in this sense. Seems like anyone will tell you just about anything but when it comes time to show up? Nowhere to be found. And when you mention it it’s turned around on you like you’re the asshole. Society is in decay. Our humanity is dying right before our eyes. People care less and less about the well being of others, becoming more and more self-absorbed daily. They talk out of both sides of their necks, being all chummy and pretending to be your friend but as soon as you’re gone they will be running their mouths about what a piece of shit you are. If you call yourself my friend yet sit back while someone is bad mouthing me, possibly even joining in. Yeah we ain’t friends. Some of y’all have no problems taking shit from the table but you sure the fuck can’t add nothing back. Takers. Leaches. Vultures. I don’t do things for people with the expectation of them doing something for me in return. I do things for people because # 1; they need help and I am able to provide them with said help, and #2; it makes me feel good. Don’t get that shit twisted, I don’t owe you shit. Nobody does. I don’t have to do the things I do, I choose to. So appreciate what you get. Be grateful you got what you got because there’s some that are not as lucky. Stop saying you will do something if you can’t produce. Attempt to understand that the world in fact does not revolve around you and that people actually owe you nothing. Oh, and if you don’t actually like me. If you look down on me and think yourself better then I am. Well then what the fuck are you doing around here? Why don’t you fuck off? I don’t care if you like me or not. I am very capable and need you for nothing so don’t bother even offering your help or services if you are just gonna flake out and waste my time. I don’t need people in my life who’s word is no good. I have more then enough snakes in my life. I need to be able to trust you, I want to be able to trust you but if you show time and again that you’re full of shit, that you actually don’t give a fuck about me at all, in fact you think I’m some kinda joke then get the fuck on before you get spit on. Lose my number and forget my name.

Just saying

Just in case you forgot, you are a bad motherfucker. Life isn’t easy and for some it’s downright brutal. The world can be a cold place at times, leaving you feeling empty and alone. People can be ruthless proving time after time that as a whole they are selfish and uncaring. Ignoring the struggles and misery of others, thinking, At least that’s not me. Life gives you plenty of reasons to throw in the towel. People betray you, dreams die. But here you still stand. Beaten and bruised? Sure, but you’re still fucking standing, still breathing. You should be proud of yourselves, it’s nuts that you made it this far. There were some moments when I wasn’t sure if we were gonna make it, wasn’t sure if I wanted to. But look at us now. Unstoppable and shit. Take a minute to appreciate exactly how far you’ve come. Y’all are magical beings of light and sound, this body is but a vessel for your true being. Stardust, capable of virtually anything, as long as you can wrap your mind around it. So dream big, your potential is endless as long as believe in yourself. Take it easy on yourself if you’re having a tough go at it. Don’t beat yourself up over the missteps, instead try to embrace them and grow from them. Regardless of what other people think or the shit that they say we all know how hard we have tried so don’t let the judgements and opinions of others dull your shine. Don’t let it deter you from continuing to be the most beautiful version of yourselves that you can be. Head up, shoulders back. We be motherfucking gangsters round here.

Know when to fold them

This gambling addiction is no joke. In my 41 years on this planet I’ve been addicted to something or the other for about 33 of those years, maybe more. From sex to crack cocaine. Food to heroin. I’ve never met a mistake I wasn’t willing to make. I’ve been to rehab, did T.C. in prison. Outpatient, inpatient. Mental institutions, therapy. I’ve done all that shit. Then on top of all the “education” I’ve gotten. I was educating myself and so minus being locked up I’ve been in active addiction as long as I can remember. Since the age of 8. So not to toot my own horn or anything but I’m kind of an expert on addiction. I could teach a class. In fact I have taught classes, granted not the most socially acceptable classes, I’ve still taught. So with the plethora of knowledge I possess it’s no small thing when I say that gambling is on top of all the rest. I am not your typical junkie. I do drugs, I don’t let them do me. I could be high as giraffe pussy and none of you would be the wiser. I can reach rock star levels of consumption with just about any drug and still maintain. Booze used to be the only one that I couldn’t control. And so I quit. Not all easy and quick like, it was a battle. I lost a bunch before I figured it out. A bunch. But now gambling joins booze on the list of shit that will ruin your life. I will absolutely give up the farm for the casinos. I will drain bank accounts, max out cards. Hustle and con. No fucks given, throw them dice. It’s problematic. It is most definitely causing issues in my normal everyday life and before this is all said and done, I guarantee you that the casino will leave its scars. It’s already began. So what? Gamblers anonymous? I’m more of a replace one addiction for another kind of guy. Rock bottom with this one could go deep as fuck considering I don’t give a fuck about money yet am especially good at gathering it. I have had more $1000 loss nights then I’m willing to admit. $300 is nothing to lose, I can do it in 10 minutes, less if I want. I regularly piss away hundreds. I sometimes catch myself thinking about all that money. You know what I could of bought with that shit? Cars, vacations, shit I probably could of put down a down payment on a fucking house. Instead I’m constantly on the hustle. Constantly looking for more money to piss away at the casino. Fucking retarded. I know this. I see it plain as day. I’m super aware. Even as it’s happening I am super aware, just watching as I burn $20’s, occasionally telling myself to stop and that I’m fucking retarded but still doing nothing to stop this madness. Instead submerging myself in it. I haven’t yet figured out what it is I’m gonna do about all of this. It doesn’t help that I win and hit big jackpots because I just end up giving it back. Anyways. I’m at the casino. In the parking lot. I got like $80. To my name. Way I see it, $80 ain’t shit. But $200 is.


Well I’m finally on the plane headed back to Oregon. Four days late and $80 poorer but better late then never. And I got a window seat for the flight back which I’ve never had, this is only the third time that I’ve flown so I’m pretty stoked. It was kinda hard to get on the plane though I’m not gonna lie. Most of my favorite people are in Colorado and it sucks to leave them. But Oregon is my new home. It’s where I want to be. I just need to start importing some of these people to Oregon, at least a few. I did have a decent visit though for the most part. It was kind of cold, which is to be expected being as how it’s Colorado, and even with the extra 4 days it didn’t seem like I was there for long enough but all in all a good trip. I can’t help but feel like I missed out on something today though do to the fact that I suck at communication which makes me feel kinda dumb. The saying goes that a closed mouth never gets fed and so I guess I’m gonna just be hungry.


It’s easy to be negative, to beat yourself up and overthink all of the mistakes that you’ve made. Hindsight is 20/20 and with that it is easy to see what you did wrong and how you could have done better. I personally am my own worst critic and can be downright ruthless to myself when I fuck up. Having no problems recognizing my flaws or noticing my mistakes, overlooking anything positive about a situation and focusing only on the negatives. So before anyone else even knows about it I have already beaten myself up pretty good. Then the peanut gallery finds out and the beatings continue. People are quick to judge a person for their mistakes, acting like they themselves have never made mistakes and assuming that if they had been in that situation they would have handled it so much better. Nobody ever compliments someone for a mistake. In my opinion mistakes are only mistakes if you repeat them, otherwise they’re just lessons. Granted some of them are hard fucking lessons but if you learn and grow from them they are just footsteps on your path to glory. You’re gonna make mistakes, it’s part of life. It doesn’t matter how many times you get knocked down as long as you keep getting up. Pain goes away, dirt washes off, chicks dig scars and glory lives forever. Remember who you are and how far you’ve come, strength is forged in fire and you’re a strong motherfucker. Don’t let the opinions of sheep dictate the life of a wolf.

The Portland Zoo

I’m not sure if they started with the head injury or if I had always had them but this when I started remembering them. Delusions of grandeur. Dreams of carnage and destruction. I feel like I’ve always had them but I can’t be for sure. Dreams of stolen national guard tanks, covered in graffiti and topped by a lone lawn chair. Rolling through a smoldering ravaged landscape. What if the reason that you have always known violence was because you were destined for violence. I mean not me, I’m destined for love and happily ever afters , but someone else. What if your destiny is chaos and destruction? What if you were made for that shit? And instead of just going with your primal instincts, and being you, instead you just lay down and take a sip of the glass of Kool aid as you buy into the dream. Always thinking about the what ifs. Wondering what things could have been like had you just went left instead of right. Never feeling quite satisfied, left always with a thirst for someone you’ll never get. Starting a career. Getting a mortgage. Putting into your 401k. Preparing for the future with investments and stocks, portfolios and financial advisors. Working your fingers to the bone for an ungrateful employer who would replace you without hesitation, all the while missing out on many chances to actually live. And at the end? Death. Old and used up, with everything hurting, can’t even get hard anymore. Missing all your friends because they are either dead or in some old people’s home down in Florida or Arizona. Impatiently waiting for the reaper who takes you with a heart attack or a stroke and a fully stocked bank account. Which gets fought over and the divided amongst your family who couldn’t give 2 fucks about you when you were still alive and kicking. That’s the American dream? Where is the cocaine and hookers? If that’s the American dream then Ill just have to pass. Besides I wasn’t made for all that shit. That’s not where my destiny lies. Plus the American dream is a lie. A joke. Or maybe it’s all y’all who have become the joke. Claiming uniqueness with your different political parties, your left and right. Conservative and liberal. One hating the other, considering themselves superior to each other and all the while just 2 hands from the same ugly, beast. What is the point of having all of those political parties when only 2 really ever stand a chance of winning and that’s only if you believe in the whole balloting system.

No place like home

I love Colorado. And Silverthorne will always be my home, my stomping grounds. But you can take this cold shit and shove it up your ass. I left Portland wearing shorts and a tank top with the weather like 70°/75° and landed in Denver to a snow storm and 32°. I have no idea how I made it in this cold ass state for as long as I did but I can tell you this, I won’t be here that long this time. In and out. It is ridiculously beautiful here though, with the snow covered mountains looming on the horizon. And the summers, even though they are only 2 maybe 3 months long, are absolutely magnificent so you got your pros and cons just like anywhere else. The cons just seemed to start outweighing the pros lately and Colorado’s beauty had begun to lose its shine. I was worried at first that I wouldn’t be able to make it in Oregon, that I would get home sick or something would happen forcing me to come back. That I’d feel this need to come back and feed off the tit that Colorado has become for me and I’m sure that there are others that still feel like I’ll end up crawling back before it’s all said and done. There’s a lot to be said about familiarity and comfort. Lot to be said about history. The known misery is oftentimes preferable to the unknown uncertainty which causes plenty of people to remain in situations that are unhealthy and bleak. The unknown can be a scary motherfucker. Moving thousands of miles outside of your comfort zone, leaving everything you have ever known, everyone you’ve ever known, all by yourself, seems lonely. And it is. But not in the way I would have thought it would be. I thought I was gonna leave and that I would be filled with some kind of feeling about Colorado and being gone but when I got to Oregon I felt pretty much the same as I did when was here. In fact overall I feel better there then I do here. I don’t want to say that I feel more hopeful cause it’s not that, but I feel more opportunistic there if that makes sense. And while I do miss my mom and a few others I don’t actually feel homesick. This has ceased to be my home if it ever was in the first place and the ache I had expected is nowhere to be found.