Hanging on to a Thought

Even though you’re gone,
We’ll keep moving on.
You’ll be another thought—a memory,
Someone who was just like me.

You should hear the things that they say
That you “quit and threw it all away.”

That “you didn’t care about the rest world,”
“Selfish. Good riddance.” Other “sentiments” hurled.

Though, I know that you’re somewhere around,
Safely watching all the things that will become unbound.

They say it’s a joke, a cop-out, and easy to quit,
“Live. Let love.  C’mon, man, take another hit.”

To leave behind all that you love and make a great escape,
When we live and breed in a world full of greed and hate.

For when the demons have finally won, what more is there to say?
“Why did you give up. Why didn’t you stay?”

So often we say that we’re fine,
Debating, procrastinating, biding my time.

When will it be?
All this misery…

Too many times I’ve put it all down,
Not to let myself be consumed, pulled under and drown.
Letting others know that it’s not my time to go.
And though I smile and try to be strong,
My thoughts, they’re dark; caged, I don’t know how long.

Eventually, the dam will break,
All that has been locked away—will I wake?

It’ll be a day where there’s no preparation,
Maybe then we can have our conversation.

In the end, we die alone,
But in life we’re lights, shone.
To each other in the dark,
We guide one another, looking for our spark.

And so your story might have ended,
Those who are lost will continue to be tended.
Our invisible wounds from which that we bleed,
All the pain and agony inside which has sown its seed.

We’re not alone in our daily struggle,
But the world makes it harder to “love your neighbor.”
Frowned upon and looked down on,
Being called “a freak,” and “you should kill yourself.”

The problem isn’t us or those that already hurt,
It’s those that antagonize and do so spurt—
Content and think they’re “safe” behind their computer screen,
When they’ve never even met you or me.

So I understand why you felt you had to go,
I only wish you could have lived to see life so.

What wonders that maybe… the world will bring,
Even if though we’ll never hear you sing.

…Again…

Comfortably numb do I exist,
Still, I’ll fight and continue to resist.
The darkness and horror that lives within,
So that maybe others can be helped—that they can see what life’s like when it begins.


Rest easy, and thanks for all you’ve done.

This was also published on www.abnormalpublishing.com

Link of the Mount

Link is climbing a mountain,

Why is he climbing a mountain?

Link is climbing a mountain,

Why is he climbing a mountain?

To hug the mountain,

To envelop that mountain.

To hug the mountain,

To envelop that mountain.

To hug the mountain—that mountain.

He wants to make love to the mountain.

Why does Link climb the mountain?

Because he’s in love.

 


 

Based off of Fall on Your Sword’s “Shatner of the Mount.”


 

I bought the oil canvas painting of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild via ThinkGeek for my wife (since she’s a huge Zelda fan, and our daughter is… well… Zelda.) Anyway, I first thought while purchasing this, you know what? Shatner of the Mount… but with Link.

Lo and behold, it was on point.

So there you have it. A random post of a gorgeous, 1 of 600 oil canvas of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild… and William Shatner… and Fall on Your Sword—all in one!

Now I have to move some other pictures around. *le sigh*

Well, until next time!

RJM

Why Morphine?

Morphine is a pain medication of the opiate type which is found naturally in a number of plants and animals. It acts directly on the central nervous system (CNS) to decrease the feeling of pain. It can be taken for both acute pain and chronic pain. Morphine is frequently used for pain from myocardial infarction and during labor. It can be given by mouth, by injection into a muscle, by injecting under the skin, intravenously, into the space around the spinal cord, or rectally.

— Wikipedia

The group had a chemistry and influence; definitely a certain kind of sexy

That’s what people generally think of when they hear that word—the drug.  However, I’m not referring to the drug in the medicinal sense.

Morphine was a band founded by Mark Sandman, Dana Colley, and Jerome Deupree (with Billy Conway subbing in for Jerome when he was taking a break from being ill). You’ll see that they were classified as Jazz Rock, Alternative Rock, or Experimental Rock. They were anything but alternative. They were unique. Described by Mark and the others, “Low Rock,” and to me, I would agree.

The group had a chemistry and influence; definitely a certain kind of sexy.

I hadn’t found their music until 2009. So a wee bit after our car accident. I was hopped up on a cocktail of antidepressants, tranquilizers, and in a surplus of guilt. Combined with alcohol, it was a total mess. I was referred to them by my best friend (and co-author), Al. The first song he played for me was Cure for Pain and I resonated with it. Something deep inside just clicked. Next was Honey WhiteBuena, and Like Swimming. Later, I developed an obsession with the sound of Hanging on a Curtain. Especially, during the hours of 1 am and 3:30 am driving/walking around Mason, MI.

Little by little, I became more in love with the sound that was Morphine. Then there came the find that Morphine lost Mark back in 1999, and there would be no more sweet, sweet, sexy bass and saxophone. No Sandman. No more Morphine. I was crushed. At the same time though it made me appreciate the find. It seemed meant to be. The band, though the loss was tragic, I never got the vibe that they were a tragedy kind of deal. What I mean by that is that though they had darker toned songs or sad songs, it [the songs] gave a glimmer (or shimmer) of hope and positivity.

As such, life went on, and it still does. Al and I wanted to give something back in return to the members of Morphine. . . in our own kind of way. We had an idea. We executed it, and well, we did it.

Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle is much more than just a writing project. It’s the time, blood, tears, sweat, memories, and more shared between two friends. Who, wanted to make something, and to give something back to one of the finest musical groups.

Morphine went on as well. There was the formation of Orchestra Morphine, Twinemen, A.K.A.C.O.D. so the music projects were aplenty.

The remaining members eventually formed (Members of Morphine and Jeremy Lyons, The Expanding Elastic Waste Band, then The Ever Expanding Elastic Waste Band) Vapors of Morphine. They carry on the sound and the music that is Morphine. I look forward to seeing them perform, one of these days when I get a chance to visit Boston. Though, I would love to somehow, some way, get Orchestra Morphine, Twinemen, A.K.A.C.O.D., and Vapors of Morphine altogether. Either for a benefit cause or something like minded.

I’ve been off medication for going on 7 years now. It has been a rollercoaster ride, for sure. I had help, though from my wife, friends, family and the therapists that were stubborn (and kind of enough to listen (and point me in the right direction)).

EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy has helped a lot too. I was skeptical at first, mostly because I had to keep thinking about my car accident, the emotions, feelings and otherwise associated. It was stuff I didn’t want to think about or deal with. Not anymore. And now? Well, I like to think my load is lightened enough that I can function and be a real person, and myself.

I have moments here and there, where my anxiety will peak, and I’ll give in a little… to the darkness. But I take a little Morphine and then I remember what and who I was, and the long road I’ve traveled on.

Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle. . .It may not be a big hit now or ever, but we can rest easy for when our time comes to visit the other side, that we made a story, a world, and universe in honor of Mark, Dana, Jerome, Billy, and Jeremy. It’s our box that we filled up and sent back.

That we shared what influenced us, molded it into a story and dedicated it right back.

Art matters. Music matters. Reading and writing matters. Everything matters. Without these though we’re so limited. . .and on the borderline of being drones and bland; creativity strangled, raped and stripped.

I’d like to keep up with the arts, set up funding, contribute back to what matters. Especially, now that it’s all in danger. It is partially the reason why I established A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group. Art matters. Music matters. Reading and writing matters. Everything matters. Without these, though, we’re so limited…and on the borderline of being drones, and bland; creativity strangled and raped. I hope to bridge the gap in writing between authors, publisher, and readers. If then, musicians, labels, and fans. And then, it’s on to movies.

Whether or not all that happens, well time will tell. However, you cannot sit idly on your hands and not did anything. Take action. Do something. It’s a two-way street after all.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe it’s time for some Morphine on this fine Friday.

Here’s to you all: have a lucky day.

Until next time, remain strong, be vigilant, and remember you’re not alone in the darkness.

RJM

P.S. My favorite song? A fierce tie between Hanging on a Curtain and The Night (both versions).

A Poem/Tie-in and Post: The Prelude

When I did my other little ditty about “Time,” I had another spur of the moment kind of thing that led me to do the following piece.

This one, I felt I would include in my third or fourth book of The Lodestone Files: Among Us: Contact, Assimilation, Control, Extermination series.

Those moments I find enjoyable; random spurts of creativity, and one where I am not at war with my mind in focusing on something (like that sweet, sweet sleep) and being restless until I have to be up 20 min before my alarm goes off. Of course, now that I mention that, I probably will be tossing and turning and God knows what else.

In any case, it’s a visit to my therapist in the AM, where I will divulge my last few weeks of ups, downs, and everything in-between. So needless to say, I am looking forward to that shut eye, unloading of what’s gone on, and what the time until the next session will be.

On the plus side, I am going to go to sleep with Mile High by Morphine playing and that’s pretty good. Ah. Love it. When I need a good wind-down time song, chillax, or be me. . .pop on some Morphine and let the music weave its way in.

I digress, though.

If you’re interested in the first book of the series, download it on Amazon (free in most areas; if it’s not free in your area, let me know! I’ll get you a PDF copy. You can also opt-in with your email, here.


The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows: Among Us: Contact, Assimilation, Control, Extermination Book 1)


If you’ve already done Book One, we’ll I have number two done and readily available. If you opt-in via email, I will send you a PDF copy of that too.

Well, that’s about it. I’ll be catching some Zs and stuff. More to come tomorrow and all that jazz.

Until then,

RJM


The Prelude

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

The time is almost here,
A time we should all fear.

The time is almost here,
A time we should fear.

The time is here,
We should fear.

The time to fear,
Is almost here.

It’s almost here,
We should fear.

What it could become.
They

Who
It

Them
Things

Who are you?
Who am I?
When?

It’s near,
We fear.

Near
Here

Fear
Near

It’s already here.
They’re near.

All there is, all that remains. . .
is fear

This text was hastily written on what remains of a wall in a dilapidated apartment building. A crumpled skeleton lays on the ground nearby. Perhaps, the remains of the author or another unsuspecting victim.

The prediction of the alien’s invasion so many years ago.


Initiate Migration Sequence 02

Robert J. S. T. McCartney doing some writing and WordPress shenanigans.

Really? Yeah really. . .

Ah, yes. The wee hours of the morning. Where 3 AM creeps up faster than a serial killer that’s stalking their next prey. ‘Tis the life of a writer! At least I have my Buckethead Playlist to keep me company and entertained. [Yes, I know there are doubles, iTunes has crashed on me so many times it’s not even funny.] I am really loving Pike 65 right now, and I have some that I need to put on the computer from my trip to the Detroit concert.

Part of a massive Buckethead playlist, featuring Pike 65.

Pike 65. Such feels.

So, the process has begun…again. I’ve taken down some of my works, but they’re still accessible via old links, but that will change in the upcoming days. Some will be going through touch ups, and beautification, while others will not.

I have to keep telling myself to not give a damn about the “likes” or if any traffic comes and visits either site, because I am doing this for myself first, and then everyone else. No, I don’t care about if there’s money generated. If anything, I’d want to have it go back to the people…as in, if I really get cranking and start to take submissions to publish, distribute, I’d rather it benefit the folks and keep on growing.

I know some say that I may dream too big, but I do more than just dream. A lot of famous folks didn’t get their big break until further along in their lives. Am I destined for that? Who knows…but one two things are for sure. I need a haircut, and also some sleep. The other things are that I need to keep at it and make something from nothing since I am actually pretty good at that. There’s a life story to go with that, but that’s for another time.

Bottom line is that I hope whoever reads these tales, poems, stories, etc. I hope you enjoy them, and that I at least entertained you for a little while. I always welcome suggestions, feedback, and the occasional hangout, where pizza and cold pints are served.

Until next time.

RJM