Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Touching You Makes Me Die Inside. Touching You Makes Me Feel Alive.


                       Touching You Makes Me Die Inside.
                            Touching You Makes Me Feel Alive.
                                  Moment of applaud to you all. Many thanks.

                                             By Mark William Darus


Record breaking month thanks to you, patient reader.

August 31 had visiting above 330 for a single day.


This month, and I am thoroughly blown away, P:AL was visited 3368 times, smashing the previous record of 2965 in May.

Closing my eyelids gently while bowing head to all of you. My dogs are barking in the background as one, or both of them let their farts fly out, sounding like out of key trumpets.

The smell of shit is profound with my writing. Most fitting really. I often think what I have to say is worthy of paperings at the bottom of a birdcage. Yet, as news papers lay off people, lesser paper product put out, so much Greener this Earth via lost jobs, how much better for the trees as they are not churned to printed word. I must simply be another form of dumping grounds. Perhaps Psychopathy Another Life is a form of a digital Fecal-Farm. Replacing things different of old with solid form in hand to a digital place in mind for you to cast off into the garbage.

Tossing things off is this time in history’s greatest achievement. We do it easily in the highest point in our heightened communication age. Chuck off that does not immediately bring us stimulation most quickly.

Not sure where I play into this.

I am merely a fireplug to piss on.
How cool is that?
Seriously speaking: Urine is the purest for of passing as it's filtered thru kidneys.

I do know I did not reach these records without you, valued reader/contributor.

Many have taken the time to comment here and thousands more have sent me emails. I’ve made a great many friends on Facebook as a result of this blog, most of which are in other countries and different continents. I still have a hard believing that something I thought and took the time write about really mattered to anyone.

It’s been said writers have massive egos yet like to hide in the distant shadows away from everyone as they observe and take in all around them. I’m not sure this true at all. I don’t believe I have hidden anything on this blog. I’m quite the vampire in most respects. I keep myself open to all, welcoming the absurd and loving the insane in all aspects of life. Appreciating the light and splendor of the daytime world I seldom see these days given my work hours, cherishing the sights, sounds and smells of the night time world I’m vastly more awake in.

I can’t really say why I am like that, but I must confess I am more comfortable with myself over the last year and half than I have known in my 51 years here. It’s been said millions of times: from bumper stickers, posters and t-shirts (and what does the ‘t’ in t-shirts stand for?) : When you find yourself, never go back!

When I did find myself, I smiled and began to run. I look backward now and again as a source of reinforcement/reference. Sure, I did have to learn walking all over again in this new life. It was nearly scary at first. I had no clue how I’d be received by those that have known me over the years. Granted, Those in that number didn’t total many in all seriousness by most peoples thoughts of friends and family. Tossing out their first names based on duration of them knowing me: Holly, Heidi, Dave-R (and family down the road), Dave-T (and family down the road) , Rachel, Rebecca, Michelle T-K (and kids), Gretchen (plus kids). These are those people that have known me in the physical world for over 10 years. Sadly, I have strained most of these people at many points over time and hugely so in the last 1.5-2 years span.

Of the above mentioned: At no time did any of us ever meet at a bar after work to SHIT-CHAT about anything over drinks. I seriously cannot remember meeting anyone at a bar in the last 18 years except some messed up PyroBabe that, when smoking was still legal in restaurants, set a straw wrapper on fire in an ashtray, followed by a paper napkin leading to the fucking table cloth while saying in a highly sexy tone: “Pre--TEE! Isn‘t it? Warm. So nice!” Glad I knew the manager there then. Asking you a question sincerely: Have you ever tasted fire extinguisher chemicals mixed with creamed and sugar filled dark roast coffee? I did. Frankly, for over an hour after this encounter, I belched my brains out!

We’d simply share thoughts and opinions in the organic realm. Words spoken, causing mental firings in others around. Truly sweet vocal/cerebral embracing’s at restaurants, backyards or emergency rooms.

On in a great families basement.

The names in that list somehow, still like me around in their lives. I’m grateful for this. I'd be a miniscule speck in the Physical World I know to be as I casted off so many others over the decades.  They are loyal beyond compare. I’m not sure what I did to deserve their them as friends and family.  I’ve hurt most, if not all of them over the years/decades.  In ways  none of them even knew nor took into them by me somehow neglecting them as I did it. this nonetheless. I'd give explanations that make sense to them, yet they always knew things about me.

"This is just Mark. He's different."  a few would describe in their truth of me.

I have never been a believer in plastic friends in my life. Most people develop cast-off-able people in their lives, usually via our spin in the ever changing economic work world. Making connections as quickly as contact likely via-esque as simply as keystrokes on a computer, except at a work place. Maybe a deep desire for attention, a deeper want for acknowledgement and wishing to belong somewhere or perhaps less profound: Just wishing to feel alive in the reflection in another’s eyes.

More often than not, the workplace isn’t the best environment to make lasting friendships. Keep in mind: I have a total of 4 best friends in 51 years of living. Friends, as most would refer to them: I have none. I’m okay with that. I am perhaps not the best source for insight to gather friends. I have little clue why those without blood-ties still wish to have me with them.

I love photography. I am continuously lucky as I catch things that people like. I have no idea what propels me in this. Perhaps I am merely a child, a tiny one in fact that merely is trying to say: Hey, look what I can do?

I go toward to darkest things imaginable in human nature. I am delighted by and attracted to this much like a moth to a brilliant flame on a foggy cricket chirping night when it comes to my writing.

When I sit before my Tower, I don’t truly know what my mind will have me write about, share via others encounters, or just simply get caught in my head until I let it out with written word.

Unlike photography, which is the counter balance in my life, I more often than not, hate my ability to write.


Don’t get me wrong, please.

I am happy to write, yet at the same time there is a tugging in both the soul and some aspect within myself I can’t quite put my finger on. With each paragraph placed to MOTHER INTERNET, many times taking hours to create, I think endlessly toward the next one.



Unencumbered passion releasing itself?

I have no clue. I just do as I do and photograph and write as I do.

I will not stop until I die. When that happens, I hope another runs on!

I’m not alone in this world, though isolated physically in my vampire life hours, I continually search about for a mental partner like myself.

I often share with others how I believe Time is moving faster these days. Even Work-life hours/days/weeks/months seem to be screaming past at the speed of light. I so often have to ask others what day it is.

Well, I’ve been long winded enough.


Closing credits: Last 30 days of Psychopathy: Another Life.

Thanks to the people of these proud lands that took the time to read me: Czech Republic, China, Korea, France, UK, Russia, Brazil, Spain, Mexico, South Africa, Malta, Ukraine, Canada, Sweden, Iceland, Germany, Belgium, Afghanistan, Serbia, Portugal, Thailand, Kenya, Norway, Syria, Greenland, Latvia, Costa Rica, Finland, Belize, Rwanda, Greece, Nepal, Australia, Italy, Hungary, Libya, Japan, Taiwan, Lebanon, Trinidad and Tobago, Slovakia, Denmark, Cambodia, Bangladesh, Fiji, Jordan, Laos, New Zealand, Israel, Croatia, Saint Helena, Honduras, Romania, Taiwan, Liberia, Kyrgyzstan, Cape Verde, Barbados, and my friends in what’s left in the once proud UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.


Music and other important credits: >>>Please look these artists/bands up as their music kept me company as I wrote and write. <<<<


Band title followed by my liking them and why.

The Birthday Massacre: Some 6 years ago my youngest daughter got me hooked on them on the way to her schools band concert. Been hooked since then ever since. Great meaning expressed with amazing vocals and eclipsing music. A totally Original band in all respects.


Michael Card. Song with meaning to me: Jesus Loves Me. A song that more often than not cleansed my soul after hours working at Progressive Insurance. Appoligizing for things I had no control over again and again. Making any sincere sense of the words : I AM SORRY, mean anything. This song gave me a catch point in my life and still does.


Dan Fogelberg: A Love Like This. Brought writing down to levels less intense. Nice.


Procol Harum: Whiter Shade of Pale. This song always fired me up.

M83: Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. Possibly the best CD I have heard in years from start to finish. Fantastic music and inspiring videos make this band in my life. Every track on this CD is a trip to somewhere outside us, yet bringing us closer to our nature.

I have to give a shout out to Writer, director, documentatian Ken Burns for his great works on the American Civil War, Americas National Park System, Frank Lloyd Wright and a host of others. Ken Burns: You fueled a fire in me. You gave me the strength to put yourself out there. Thank you so very much.

To those that shared sending me emails the last 31 days: Massive Thanks!

Marya, Tabitha, Chelsea, Anabelle, Katy, Inga, Geoffrey, Zitu, Jasmine, Audrey, Yvette, Casey, Queen Bitch of New York, Peter B L, Trisha J, Anthony I, Danielle, DanI, Catherine H, David H, David C, David K, Prince, Jose, Phillip, Jessica, Rachel D, Rachel D II, Cassandra Z, Cassandra L, Cassandra T, Alexandria Ignatius, Alexandria N, Alexandria W, Alexandria G, Jacob Francis M, Bringer of Doom, Beth Anne Hendrix, Theda, Susan J, Suzanne S, John X, Emily, Evan, Marcus, Richard L, Erik, Johan, Winnie in Poo, Gretchen P, Gretchen H, Gretchen K, Barb A, BARB L, YURI r, AND A HOST OF OTHERS!


I guess I should profoundly thank humanity itself.

Such incredible animals are we to possess so much destructive and killing capabilities and yet see beauty and sometimes help an elderly person cross a busy roadway.

As I go onward, I will I never lose my ability, my gift so-to-speak, to express myself openly, freely, to give of my thoughts to others with no worry or backlash of those that could hit my future. I simply don’t care if I get hurt.

Final thanks to Google Blogger for giving me this opportunity. I could not have done this without you!

Open your mouth and express your beliefs, your peace.

Mark William Darus 09012013