CarlHoliday

I It is morning and the rains have not come, again. The sky is clear. The star that warms Glandar is still low on the western horizon. Storybooks say that Mother Earth’s star, named for the Son of the Most High, rose in the east, but somehow that just doesn’t sound right. I can’t get in my head that a planet can rotate in the opposite direction. Yet, why would books lie? Although, some say they’re only stories and are not meant to be taken as fact, I still seem to want to believe in the

2007 Spring Anthology

Mister Tubbs was dead when Jeremy stepped out the front door. Not just dead, but crushed skull, blood and bits splattered all over the front porch dead. A baseball bat, obviously the murder weapon, lay quietly where it had done its reprehensible deed. Jeremy would have vomited at the sight of this. That is, his stomach went through the motions of regurgitation, but since he hadn’t eaten breakfast nothing came up. He stepped over the mess and quickly walked out to the newspaper box to get the mor

Michael’s partner of nine years cheated on him a couple months ago and, although he forgave Jerry, Michael is desperate to love Jerry again, even though there is a big hole in his heart.

It’s the Sixties and Ronnie is certain everyone in his family thinks he’s a homosexual. The problem is, he’s not too certain he isn’t and he knows next to nothing about sex. Then an answer appears in a little game of spin the bottle.

The Harpsichordist by Carl Holiday We were at that point—What’s it called? The seven-year itch?—where even the mere sight of Jerry wasn’t supposed to bring any excitement to my heart, except with Jerry that’s impossible. To tell the truth, Jerry has this great big bag of excitement he carries around with him and freely spreads it everywhere. He’s his own party, anniversary, celebration, or whatever else you’re having; bubbly doesn’t even come close to describing how Jerry is sometime

The Christmas Fairy by Carl Holiday When I was growing up, Christmas was not sleigh bells, snow gently falling through the pines, or children sledding down a hill. More than likely it rained on Christmas, but that was okay because I was with Mom, Dad, and Dad’s brother Uncle Ray. We opened our presents in the morning before breakfast, a meal which I think Mom preferred cooking because it involved two of her favorite food groups, fat and sugar. Christmas breakfasts were long drawn out a

Thanks to all who expressed concern here and otherwise. I've only come back due to the amount of concern. This is not a rash decision, nor has it been taken lightly. Life has come to a point where it the option was to truly go insane as my world crumbled around me, take the ultimate exit, or to attempt to walk away. I choose the latter. I've been nutso before and, trust me, it ain't no fun being in a world unto your own, especially when no one notices. I went off my rocker and totally ruined my life, but did anyone say anything? Nope, not a word even though I was spouted off the craziest shit. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. Ain't goin' down that road ever again. But aren't you doing something crazy, now? Actually, yes, I am. This is totally whacked, but as far as I'm concerned it's better to do it now when I have an ounce of sanity than later when I'll be so far around the bend that I might just off myself to relieve the pain. You see, I know how to do it right this time around. I know how to do it so that it gets done right the first time and knowing that I know is scary. Right now, I'm in a position that I might just have to do something drastic and that doesn't make the camper feel all that well. So, in a few minutes, I'm putting on my winter coat, hat, and throwing the backpack over my shoulder and hitting the road. I've got about six hours before I'll feel totally safe. Wish me luck. is still going through with this.

I

All the pieces still pulling at their knots come undone tomorrow. All the loose ends totally, completely unravel. My final piece of the puzzel will be put in place, soon. I think I saw the exit sign up ahead. I have my final destination. All I need is my boarding pass. is not looking forward to the darker days ahead.

It can get only so deep before you have to climb out of the cesspool. I am not looking for anything better, only peace. In earlier times I may have gone on a pilgrimage. Today I can only seek inner solace. It comes down to a choice, really. And, I've always been a coward when it comes to choices. I can only hold up my end so long without help. If you offer nothing except hindrance, I'll eventually drop my end. I cannot do it alone. I've tried, and failed. I've tried, again, and failed. I keep trying, and failing. You offer no help. Now, my life is unravelling and I can't find the ends to tie them back together. You can throw shit on me for only so long before I have to step out of the way. It will be the incorrect choice, it always is the incorrect choice, but I have to chose. I'm sorry, but you're not my final choice. The plan is set. I can only await the crack of the starter's pistol. There is still a slight chance it will be Option B, but it is so slight as to be impossible to imagine coming true. is ready to throw off the schackels

Spending a few hours in Peculiar, MO, and you'd think with a town named Peculiar I could think up some peculiar things to say about Peculiar, MO, but I can't so this is all you get. Now, isn't that peculiar. peculiar noun 1562 :someting exempt from ordinary jurisdiction; especially :a church or parish exempt from the jurisdiction of the ordinary in whose territory it lies peculiar adjective 15th Century 1 :characteristic of only one person, group, or thing :DISTINCTIVE 2 :different from the usual or normal: a:SPECIAL, PARTICULAR b:ODD, CURIOUS c:ECCENTRIC, QUEER not only can I be queer, I can also be distinctive, special, particular, curious, and eccentric; besides being peculiar. is incredibly sad; pharmacology advances; wonders never cease; the spiral tightens

Had a wonderful time in Wyoming last night and this morning; got me a couple of fantastic Wyoming blow-jobs. Let me tell you right now, if you want a blow-job to remember for a long, long time, well head right on over to Wyoming. Now, Wyoming isn

I haven

You may have wondered why I

Because I had two accidents last month, I had to come to HQ today to do a road evaluation. The good news is I passed the range evaluation, which is moving the big truck and trailer through a series of very tight spots, do a straight line back, and negotiate an incredibly tight right turn. The bad news is I failed the road evaluation. I didn't constantly move my eyes from left mirror to right mirror to straight ahead to dash to left mirror to right mirror to straight ahead to dash to et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Plus, I didn't do three-point, three-stage traffic checks when making turns, changing lanes, or just generally moving the truck from here to there. The good news is I get to try again in the morning. The bad news is I don't care. I'm at the point where I might just quit this circus because the clown suit doesn't fit like it used to. Things have changed. The hole is so deep I can't tell if I'm digging myself out or deeper in. The only thing keeping me going is the two writing projects. The Tim rewrite is going beautifully. The Schtickist is moving into a new phase and there's fun galore. Guess who is going to become King of the Schtickists? Guess who doesn't want to be a queen, but is more than willing to be a princess. "What is this and why do I have to wear it the to Grand Ball?" "It's called a jockstrap and you have to wear it because you're going to be my princess." "Don't I get to wear underwear with it?" "No! That's the whole point." "This is a joke, right?" "Of course it is, it's a Schtickist Ball." "And I have to wear this hat, too, right?" "It's a Schtickist party hat, everyone will be wearing one." "It's a big rubber dick!" "Do you want to wear the big rubber tit?" "Well, I am going to be a princess and speaking of being a princess, why can't I wear my ballerina outfit to the Ball." "Because you're wearing that to the coronation!" "The glass slippers don't fit. My feet are to big." "Then get bigger slippers." "They'll look silly." "And, what is your problem with that?" "Well, what are you wearing to the coronation?" "Nothing! The king has no clothes!" "You Schtickists are weird." Or, something along those lines. is languorous, never lackadaisical!

Been in roamingland for the past few days. I could get online, but could only do one site at a time before being forgotten. It says you're connected, but you can't connect. The only solution is to pull the card, get the software to stop thinking it's still connected (end of process in Task Manager seems to do the trick), and start over, all the time hoping the software has actually acknowledged that it was disconnected and isn't thinking it still is, or worse, suddenly decides it's going to try to establish a 4G connection when you're literally in the bushes. Okay, I'm pissed. When I was in Lordsburg, NM, I almost had service. My carrier could just about connect with itself, but not enough to carry a signal. Couldn't call out, couldn't get calls in, because it said it was in its territory, but wasn't. Suddenly, roaming pops up and I have 3 bars. Quick, dial that number. Better yet, use speed call. It's trying to make the connection. It's going to work. It's ringing, ringing, ringing, "hello ...", BEEP BEEP BEEP. What the f**k! Damn it's trying to find itself, again. It broke the roaming connection so it can go look for itself. Oh, look! It's found itself, but doesn't have enough signal to make a connection. If I didn't owe these people a lot of money and wasn't going to be able to get a discount because my employer is one of the corporate partners, I go somewhere else. So, it's been almost service and one task at a time service. The pissy thing is this is supposed to be a national carrier. They pride themselves on being everywhere, but mostly they're only where the money is. And, do not even think about using them in Wyoming. They are not in Wyoming. They decided they didn't have to be everywhere and one of the big nowheres is Wyoming. It's roamingland bigtime, but mostly there just isn't any internet access at all. Parts of New Mexico are in the toilet, too. When I'm in Nogales, Arizona, my carrier sometimes gets a better signal from across the border, but then you have to have international service enabled on your profile to make a call or use the internet. Sometimes, I wonder life would be better if I was just a bit crazier. Life does seem better when I'm running above the troughs, but I don't want to do that anymore. You get bad things when you're up there too long. The air is thinner and your brain is starved of healthy sustenance. I'm rapid cycling right now. I think it's called Cyclothymia, but my lows might be too low to fit the definition; one of the things I'll have to discuss with the shrink, if I can get an appointment. One hour I'm up feeling good and the next I'm at the opposite end of the spectrum. Right now, at this very moment, I sinking fast, but I know that in a few hours I'll be sailing high, again, so who cares if they feel bad/sad for a little bit. I do, but nobody seems to be listening. Yesterday, while in Little America, Wyoming, and not having enough roaming bars to get internet access (one-step variety), I was pumping endorphins and wrote a whole new chapter in Remember Tim. I wish I could tell you about it, but you'll have to wait. Probably until the pre-burgers come home, the way things are going, now. is down.

Cycling away, here. Practically rapid cycling. I

First of all, I want to thank all who were concerned about my very recent fall from grace. Yes, it was very traumatic, mostly because I

It was, of course, inevitable. You can

I delivered a load of grapes to Shelbyville, TN, today and on the way back to civilization I saw a business's sign: B_________ Tack. Underneath this bit of vague information was a bit of clarification in large bold letters: Horse Equipment. And further down, there was, of course, a brief listing of the kinds of equipment this business will sell you for your horse. No problem right? Wrong! All along US-231 before and after this sign there are many, many horse farms. There are stables, breeding farms, training farms, and just horses out in the pasture farms. This is horse country. So, yes, they need a tack shop. But, although I am not a horse person, primarily because horses, while nice to look at out in the pasture, are evil-minded, spiteful creatures that have no qualms whatsoever about killing the person riding them in any manner they choose, I do know that a tack shop sells horsey stuff. You need horsey equipment and gear, you go to a tack shop. Now, if I, a non-horse person knows what a tack shop sells, why does B_________ Tack have to advise its potential customers that it sells horse equipment? Well, this is Tennessee and it's in the South, so maybe the horse people around B_________ Tack do not know what a tack shop sells. Maybe, just maybe, they might think B__________ Tack sells tacks. You know, those sharp pointy things you use to stick notes to a bulletin board. I've never actually come across a business that only sells tacks, but maybe the people at B___________ Tack have and they want to make certain the horsey people around them know that they can buy whatever tack items they need at B___________ Tack and that B_________ Tack does not sell tacks, although they might have a few on their bulletin board. You just can't be too obvious these days because there are people around who just don't know what tack is when you're talking about horses. Unless, you're like me and don't like horses, then you're likely to know, except it doesn't matter for us because we're not looking for tack, so we won't be patronizing B__________ Tack. And, I wouldn't go to a tack shop for tacks anyway. I go to office supply stores for my tacks. (Still higher than a kite, but my boss "has experience with bipolar stuff" so he "understands" where I'm at. WTF is that all about? I just know I have to be extra careful and I get easily distracted. Yesterday, I stopped to take a break and pay a few bills online and three hours later I suddenly became aware that it was three hours later and I was almost finished with Chapter 18 of the Schticky story. Trust me, being on an extended high is not necessarily fun. Now, I know I need a mood stabilizer. What scares me the most is the potential for getting worse. I read an article online that said extended periods of hypomania can have a detrimental effect on the well-being of the sufferer. I don't need any detrimental effects, thank you very much. Well, got to go pickup some yogurt. Another night load. I hate night loads. Night loads aren't good when you're having trouble with sleep because you're suffering from hypomania. I don't want to throw in the towel, yet. I've got to think of something funny. Funny helps. God, I hate being like this. Now I know why people who've suffered from depression for a long time off themselves. This is not nice.) is not happy!

you + chemicals = you functioning on chemicals vs. not functioning without chemicals it's a tough choice. It took me four tries before I found the right antidepressant that works for me without too many awful side effects. Frankly, I cannot deal with SSRIs effect on libido (zero) and physiological response to stimulation (no erection/no ejaculation or no erection/pathetically unsatisfying ejaculation). What bothers me the most is the mood stabilizer. Emotional response zeroes out. Life settles into a mediocre median where happy and sad are dampened to just okay. It's hard to live like that, but at least you're not hiding under the covers because you're so depressed you don't even want to walk all the way to the toilet, but you know you gotta, but you don't until you can't hold it any longer, and then feel like a failure because you gave in to a need; or, as is my case right now, your irritable to the max, you don't need a lot of sleep, you tend to focus on one thing at the detriment of everything else around you, and you don't care one iota about anything. I don't want to, but I'll take the drugs. I've been at the edge and it is very scary trying to decide if the fall will kill you or only maim you until the oncoming semi turns you into a bloody smear on the pavement (a few nights ago I ran over either a large raccoon or a coyote, THUMP! THUMP-THUMP! followed by a queasy feeling that it could have been a suicider diving under the front tire causing that sound. No, I didn't stop to see what I killed.) and now, to experience what must have been a truly psychotic event and live to tell about it. When you can scare yourself, it's time to take a few pills and return to something close to normal.

I guess I

I don

Something occurred last night that quite possibly will have a very, very negative effect upon my person in the near future. I know I should feel bad and I did feel bad when this thing happened, but since I