addiction, alternative, depression, Erotic, free verse, independent, literature, poetry, Uncategorized, underground, writing

One Night Stands

Simply aren’t worth it to me. I get the attraction. Easy, no strings attached sexual pleasure from a total stranger you hope not to see again. I understand it completely but it is not my cup of tea. When you don’t like drinking & you go to parties the brutish & peacock-like advances of your inebriated peers become painfully obvious. I get second hand embarrassment from it and it happens between men, women, trans people, gays, lesbians, anything with a libido & a liquor bottle. Now I don’t mean to say that I’m sober at these events, but a coke head, a junkie or a tweaker tends to stay a bit more aware of their surroundings, as crazy as that sounds to most of you. I’ve had to deal with some drunk girl’s emotional breakdown right after injecting a bunch of morphine & coke only for her to pass out & forget all about it the day after.

Even when you’re both sober its awkward. You don’t know each other’s turn ons, you don’t know what will send them into the throes of orgasm or walk out the door. Thus it tends to be boring & lacks intimacy. I would want to at least like someone before being inside of them, once a girl I was chilling with left to get laid with a total stranger then came back to hang out for a few more hours. Like I’m 27 and on a ton of meds, we’re gonna need at least an hour to pop that cork. Also I love giving oral, no one wants to use dental dams, lets be honest. I’d like to be reasonably certain that this is not going to result in a venereal disease.

I don’t think I’d fuck someone I didn’t trust to some degree & I don’t trust strangers at all. I’m not looking for a romantic attachment either but there has to be some kind of intimacy there or it isn’t worth it to me. Why act like a drunken fool trying to pick up girls in a bar? No good relationship I heard of ever started out in a bar. Instead of buying drinks for myself & some physically attractive woman who prefers Beyonce’s to Aretha’s I might as well stay home jerk off because even if we somehow ended up screwing it probably wouldn’t get me off. At least stay the night & spoon or something.

In the end if there isn’t some sort of spark there won’t be no fire. I’m content to watch the hookups & the breakups from my lovely little bubble of apathy & thank god that I don’t have to please anyone but myself.

Advertisements
Standard
addiction, alternative, depression, free verse, improvisation, literature, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

Right/Left Alt-Right/Alt-Left

What an idiot I was to equate the old doped up psychedelic left,

Black & White Panthers, John & Yoko, John Sinclair, MC5, Bob Dylan,

With the new synthetic one.

Beyonce & EDM, Mumford & Sons & a bunch of similar sounding shit.

The old left marched, they fought, they demanded

Equality, peace, legalization of all drugs & fucking in the streets.

The alt-left is almost as white as the alt-right but they’ve taken white guilt to the point of flagellation. I took sociology, psychology, & statistics in college. Most kids learn them from memes. Cut away all the important information and leave the slogan. The new left are invariably well-off, white & post on everyone’s behalf, whether they are wanted or not. The political spectrum is a big circle. In the middle of the top is moderate democratic socialism aka Canada. On the bottom centre of the circle is anarchy. No laws, rules or government, everyone agrees. To the left of this is Stalinism. Economically communist. methodologically totalitarianism. To the bottom right of anarchy you have fascism. Capitalist economics with totalitarian government. Thus any system of government can theoretically be totalitarian, other than true democracy and anarchy.

The destruction of books, of knowledge, like the nazi book burnings were controversial because they represent a rejection of intellect over emotion, they represent human experiences & culture. Words from 200 year old novels should not be changed because they offend someone from the 21st century. That is how we lose original works. Censorship is always the first step towards a totalitarian government. Words are neither good nor bad, merely vehicles of interpretation. Just like Pravda, alt-left events want to know what you will be saying so that anything that doesn’t toe the party line gets no voice. The left, my own leaning, is focused on equality in the future, integration of races and anti fascism. The alt-left is run by successful millennials, usually white and mostly uneducated past high school. They cannot distinguish between debate & battle, they are more interested in semantics and sensationalism than serious politics, such as pronouns & safe spaces. Problem is anyone who expresses any slight disagreement gets a dose of social media mob justice. Things like “properly gendered pronouns” have become political talking points while they sign death warrants behind closed doors. Drone strikes & bombs. I found that looking anyone in the eye and shouting ‘hey you!’ is an effective pronoun for almost everybody.

The left fights the right & now alt-right, while the alt left fight among themselves & the old school lefties. Getting offended is now a full time job for most of these people, again usually affluent & white. They act like insulting their former allies is some heroic act but really it just alienates most people with a working knowledge of history & politics. At the core though they are afraid & disgusted by the people they so nobly defend. Prostitutes, drug addicts, the mentally ill. They also tend to be the most crass, non-politically correct but not hateful people. The homeless. Everyone looks the same at rock bottom. Even though the hipster alt-left they take pills, snort coke & methylate it by mixing it with liquor they still think they’re better because they’re afraid of a little blood. Half of all smokers will die from smoking. Its deadlier than a coke or heroin habit, but then again most people don’t cut their blow with benzene and arsenic. I watched someone wither and die of cancer in less than a week. Waste your time exercising and eating well if you want, he was the most fit person I knew. Use your life before you lose it.

Sure being white & straight is great but being a suicidal, autistic drug addict isn’t such a great privilege. Losing my dad at 65 and now my cousin at 45, while my other cousin is in the ward for another suicide attempt is not a privilege. Unless you actually know a person (I mean really know) making judgment calls about their “privilege” is a privilege in and of itself, most of us are just trying to manage our own lives as its not my business to manage anyone else’s.

I was recently told to stop bitching & do something with my privilege.I spent the better part of a decade working in harm reduction & LGBTQ awareness (2005-2011). I did human rights articles for the school paper, wrote and edited for a magazine for at risk youth, drove a kid to his Hep C appointments cause I felt bad. When the funding stopped I made my own zine. Been the keynote speaker for a number of charity events, opinion writer on politics, drug policy, discrimination, literature & human rights. I work closely with a feminist icon who has been centre stage since ‘77 & makes Bikini Kill sound tame, yet still I get accused of “bitching” ‘cause I don’t want to be compared to the people that tried to rape my mother & did successfully rape more than five of my friends. Wold you like to be compared to Madam Mao simply because you were born with the same sex organs? Eva Braun? Countess Bathory? Bloody Mary? She loved to burn protestant families at the stake.

I saved people from jail & from overdoses but I should have used my privilege to support a cause more worthy. Not like any of that money went towards shelters for abused women, oh wait, it did. I went to college, took journalism, ethics, history, women’s literature, statistics (they are almost always incorrect & easy to manipulate) poetry, politics & a study of addictions. I published and edited three poetry collections, one from an ESL man from India, another from a mentally ill local poet & one from a former poly substance abuser. I lost money on all of these but Put in my own because I saw potential in them. Helped friends put together their own zines & chapbooks at 0 charge. I thought maybe I was doing something worthwhile with my life. Evidently I was just “using my privilege to bitch instead of for the greater good.” A phrase used to justify the means to the end. Ironically it was a common fascist slogan used to justify the murder of the infirm, insane & disabled. I was never told what this greater good was. Capitalism? Christianity? Upper middle-class white feminism? Sobriety? It certainly wasn’t the opioid crisis or autism awareness, not class drift or overmedication of youth. Structural functionalism maybe? A place for everything & everything in its right place. I think that mentally ill women need more of a voice in society than neurotypical & I did not charge her for editing or publication. I thought we could se more diversity so I took a chance on a book written by a man in India, judging by local sales people here are kind of racist. So what is this greater good? Good & evil are subjective ideas posing as absolutes. Good is a matter of perspective. Good is boring. I answer those that need me & do what I can. What is everyone else doing that surpasses me so much? I live below the poverty line with autism. I do

A friend of mine personally found 68 people dead in the government housing complex he works at. 6 years of schooling. Do you all carry and understand how to use naloxone? Its free so their should be no reason not to have it. When I was a junkie I had a few half-assed interventions but if I OD’ed no one could have done shit. Another good friend spends his time helping his 91 year-old grandpa & volunteers at a soup kitchen.

“All men are rapists.” “All Germans are Nazis.” “Women aren’t funny.” These are all ridiculous blanket statements that everyone knows are not true. Its too bad if you don’t like it but I’m a man and I don’t want to be compared to the piece of shit that sexually assaulted my friend when she was 5, whatever the hell your political agenda is. As anyone could tell you, some of the most notorious concentration camp guards were young women like Ilsa, ‘The Beast of Belsen”. Karla Homolka has a new family while somewhere in an evidence locker is a tape of her & Paul raping and murdering her teenage sister. Murder & rape are not sane acts to commit. You cannot teach a pedophile not to rape anymore than you could’ve taught John Wayne Gacy not to eat people. They’re both sick for life. No right minded individual would commit rape. It has been a capital crime for thousands of years, should be again. People tell their daughters to be careful because they know they can’t trust their sons. Unless you Clockwork Orange style condition it out of them somehow before they’ve tried it.

In a perfect world we’d teach our children not to rape and murder & they would listen. We don’t live in a perfect world, we live in a fucked up, sick one. The only person you should ever trust is yourself. You can be an idealist & try to end one of the oldest crimes in history through a vague education plan or a realist & know that if it comes down to a fight you have the advantage. I weigh just over 100lbs myself, I’d rather be prepared to defend myself if need be.

Oh & I do believe that rapists, potential or otherwise should be afraid. Not of being falsely accused & blowing their brains out before trial. I think that they should bring back capital for rapists, first degree murderers, child molesters, mass murderers & serial killers. Want to make them afraid? Send them to a special room with a sloped floor, put a bullet in the back of their skulls and let the bodies roll down into a heap for easy disposal & hosing off the blood. The Soviets were efficient executioners. Make their peers watch, but for fuck’s sake make damn sure they’re guilty before you pull the trigger.

The disunited infighting of the new left has alienated its best supporters. Black Panthers were more okay with white people than BLM, seeing as thy ran heroin and shot at the police instead of ended up cordoned off in the “protesters safe room” times are logged and registered, moles in place, police brought in to ensure than nothing happens to change the status quo. People with signs chant & feel better about themselves, rubber bullets and pepper spray manufacturers get rich and nothing changes. Almost 60 years since Kent State now. They’re making you feel like you’re making a difference but the laws stay the same or get tighter & it gives the cops a chance to beat on civilians, their favourite pastime other than shooting unarmed black kids. You need leverage to change things in politics, & memes are not leverage.

The alt-left is so my way or the highway (aka we never took rhetoric) that people who were on the left before it was trendy, the one’s who helped LGBTQ rights become mainstream and lost friends over it or got in fights to protect others feel marginalized now. We were a means to an end and now that we aren’t needed its “white fuckboy” or “ciscum.” We still go to punk shows and fight racists using our fists. Give change to the homeless  Act friendly & kind to strangers. Not out of any perceived obligation to a poorly defined greater good, but because we have empathy. We do what we can when and if we can. No more, no less.History is filled with examples of human beings doing good & terrible things. No race, culture or gender is immune or innocent to human flaws. Nelson Mandela was a hero to Black South Africans but his wife was notorious for ‘necklacing’ opponents to the ANC by shoving a tire over their body so their arms couldn’t move & then setting it alight where it would very slowly and painfully kill the victim by cooking them alive. They stayed married. Does that mean Nelson was evil? Thats up to you, the point is that oversimplifying complex situations will cause more harm than good, The last thing anyone wants is to start a cycle of blood vengeance. No two people are the same

Standard
addiction, alternative, depression, Erotic, free verse, grunge, improvisation, music, poetry, rock, Uncategorized, underground, writing

DSM II

We’re all beautiful and immortal when we’re dead!

I’m Johnson! I’m Jones! I’m Hank the First, Hendrix, Janis & Jim.

I’m Kurt’s used spoon. Death makes us immortal.

What? I thought you liked danger. I always fell for the ones that dressed bad all in black, ripped jeans booze & anything you’d do I would JoanJett’s, Brody Dalle’s Patti Smiths… Lydia Lunch’s

Punk Rock Virgin Mary Magdalene’s & I was just a virgin carpenter.

Teens like the idea of rebellion. I was a stay at home loser who found

Themselves used to a dull personality in lines of white,

In coloured pills & needles.

No one else but Jake n’ Mikey had it in them.

If you’re going to do it go all the way, or stick to the plan.

9-5 pay taxes, drink to sleep all week, do blow to stay up all weekend.

Rinse & repeat.

Quiet & peace until you look like a joke out wasted with your single best friends & you chose it. Mix it up, take a girls, take a boy, pick a fight,

But every mainline is a round in Russian Roulette.

Hoping each shot will be the one to shut these people up.

If you’re might not die then you’re not living.

I see my cocaine & raise it 24mg of hydro.

My bird’s heart is flying north & fleeing south at the same time.

Flag, thick red vein blood push, too wired for tired to strung out to care.

One ends another gets prepped, I add an ampule of liquid midozolam,

Handful of beezo pills, old OC & some free Montreal speed.

I wonder if death will be the only cure for this dull night.

Getting buzzed, stoned, intoxicated was boring by the time I was legal.

Each hit should be enough to kill yourself, each failure is just another chemical in the chamber, fentanyl & ice.

Death walks by three times daily.

I feel pity for the ones invested in TV & pop music who want more than

Just rehashed resin.

I used to think Bob Was crazy for quitting Sonic Youth.

Found out he quit, & yes Lydia is a far better kisser according to B.B.

Who’s been in NYC since the factory days.

When I found Dylan the Velvets & Patti were the next to blow my mind.

Then Sonic Youth Death Valley’69 Lydia’s demented orgasmic blood curdling shrieks.

Sonic Youth went indie-grunge trying to get their favour back for taking Nirvana on tour in ‘91.

The Year Punk Broke, directed by a teenaged Dave Markey, a friend now.

It broke because SY had the talent, Nirvana had the soul.

Meanwhile in the dirty downtown NYC clubs where this music is at home….

-Jack Blare

Standard
alternative, Erotic, free verse, improvisation, independent, literature, man, Uncategorized

Unburdened

I gave up on true love a long time ago.

Like I gave up the idea that schooling & intelligence were related.

That what goes around comes around,

That bad people suffer for their sins.

That good people hold out their hands for nothing.

Now I am free to love who I please.

That its always now or never &

If it isn’t worse than cotton fever or handcuffs from real cops,

Than watching your grandparents, father, family & pets die

Right before your eyes.

Than the looks of disgust I get from strange girls at parties

When they see my tracks & scars.

When your first kiss never wants to speak to you again.

You never do & never know why.

Like when they find the dope, or hear you making love.

When these things happen enough times you find out how silly it was

That they mattered at all.

To be shy to walk around barefoot, to dive into a kiss.

To tell people your fantasies without fear.

To toss aside the baggage of being young, mentally ill & addicted,

Peel off the label & spend the day in bed with a beautiful girl.

Because the pleasure of a single touch can outweigh the finest heroin

When its from finger of a lover, the lips, the tongue.

The bed, the floor, the grass & dirt become altars to Aphrodite.

I want to anoint you in oil & listen to Sonic Youth records.

You can smoke a joint while I kiss the arches of your feet, the ankle, the heel.

Working my way inch by inch to where fire & water meet.

Until you tremble, only my breath warm and near you,

Opening a delicate flower, I inhale the fragrance of fertility,

So slowly I lick. You say “Mhm!” and push your hips into the air.

A teasing brushstroke, hot, wet, fingers exploring heaven.

Taking me out, all ready, even clear liquid drips from the tip

So warm in your hand. Like a tear of lust, tear of jewelled desire

You kiss it so gently my breath is slow motion

I have a humming of angels inside as you lavish me with attention,

I can’t go back, there is no one like you in the past

Your yellow shift, short hair & peeking nipples.

Bare legs & feet, unpolished toenails.

I want all of you at once.

What kind of beautiful madness is this?

Jack Blare, 2017

Standard
music, poetry, rock, Uncategorized

Come Undone

You show up like the ghost of my depression

with your memories and ideals

and I get the strong impression

that you have no idea how this feels

I’m Jesus Christ the Emperor

I’m Nero who sacrificed his youth

I am the coliseum’s last contender

Fighting off the inevitable truth

I’m not old but I’m not young

Just trying to have some fun

I fucked I fought I lost and I won

But now its all come undone

I am the blind eye of a storm

Brewing since the day that I was born

my suit is bloody, burnt and torn

I’m the devil that sold both of his horns

Riots on the bloody streets of heaven

Dope & fucking on the streets of hell

The angelic council of eleven

hid inside the cracked liberty bell

I’m not old but I’m not young

Just trying to have some fun

I fucked I fought I lost and I won

But now its all come undone

‘cause I’m having fun

And you know I’m not done

I’ve come undone

I’ve come undone

I’ve come undone

Jack Blare, 2015

Standard