that final step/rewrite 1

he made the perfect plan
like he was going off to college
leaving home for the very first time
it took everything he had
every single scrap of knowledge
to be the victim of a victimless crime
he did all the research
lonely nights on the computer
interviews and articles and books
there wasn't any class
no way to hire a tutor
for the subject of the interest that he took
and when he was finished
he said there's nothing to it
he lit a match and inhaled
one last cigarette
but when it came the time
he found out he couldn't do it
he'd never figured out that final step

he drove to the gun store
to buy his chosen weapon
paid for it with his trusty visa card
then he walked inside the pharmacy
to fuel his Armageddon 
the Walgreens out on harbor boulevard
he stumbled to the corner
to mail his goodbye note
"so long everyone" was all it read
there was a couple teardrops
smudging the sentence that he wrote
but there was no mistaking what it said
and when he was finished
he felt beat up and tired
tuckered out from doing all the prep
but when it came the time
he was oddly uninspired
he'd never figured out that final step

I don't want to be desperate anymore

It's just getting worse, man. Everyday is more bad news. I am so fuckin' tired. I don't want to be desperate anymore. I want to be able to have a good night's sleep where I don't wake up at 4 a.m. worrying. I don't want to be angry anymore. I don't want this world to keep closing in around me.

Are you listening? Are you out there?

I'm listening, farmboy. I wish I could do something.

I don't know what I did to be punished...

farmboy, please. Don't blame yourself.

I'm too tired to argue. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything.

You don't need too apologize, farmboy.

I don't know what else to do, man.

Nothing helps

I'm back to feeling like shit again, man. I'm so angry, so fuckin' pissed off at the world. Fuck, man, nothing I do is right. And no matter what I fuckin' do, the problems just keep fuckin' coming, man, one after-a-fuckin'-other. You know the evil in this world, all the greed, the insurance companies, the fuckin' health system, the people that hold the fuckin' purse strings, man, they are all just fuckin' evil.

I'm sorry, farmboy. I know it's hard. We live in a cruel society.

So are you okay?

No.

No?

I think about suicide all the fuckin' time, and I'm tired of saying I won't do it. More and more it feels like a viable option at some point. More and more there's less hope. 

farmboy?

What?

What can I do to help?

Nothing, man. I'm beyond all help. I'm more than depressed. I'm desperately angry, man. Nothing is gonna help. I'm just a big fuckin' lethal ball of negativity and I'm beyond hope. Nothing helps. It just gets worse and worse and worse and fuck it, man, I really don't have anything to live for...

What about your niece? 

That's what's been keeping me here. I don't want to put her through a member of her family killing himself. I don't want to be that person. She's only six and she's curious about a lot of things. I'm not going to be the one to make her...well, I don't know what, but...

Why did you have to bring her up?

Because you love her and she loves you. That's all.

(sighs)  So what do I do, man? I'm so fuckin' tired.

Start with a couple of deep breaths, farmboy.

( farmboy breathes deep a few times, exhaling after each one)

I'm so tired, man...

I know, farmboy. It will be okay. But you've got to stick around so that can happen.

So what can happen?

I can't say, farmboy, because I don't know. But something will happen. I promise you it will.

And what if it doesn't?

farmboy...

I'm just so tired, man. So fuckin' tired...

you won't remember me/rewrite 4

you don't know my name
who I am
or what I do
I'm just a victim
on the network news
you've maybe seen my face
on the screen of your TV
you won't remember me

It doesn't matter where
some stranger with a plan
strength in his conviction
shotgun in his hand
finger on the trigger
pointed aimlessly
you won't remember me

I never will grow older
the future I won't see
never fall in love
or raise a family
I will only be a whisper
an aborted memory
you won't remember me

at the elementary school
at your local shopping mall
at Virginia Tech
Red Lake Band of Chippewa
at the movies in Aurora
Columbine
Littleton
and the list continues
on and on and on and on

and you don't know my name
or when I was alive
a silent echo
that did not survive
I'll barely be a footnote
on the edge of history
you won't remember me
you won't remember me
you won't remember...

dear friends

dear friends
I am sorry for my absence
but I was too sad to even speak
I thought it wouldn't take long
a few days
or, at the most, a single week
but I know now I was wrong
I just couldn't get along with myself
dear friends
I am sorry
that I couldn't be somebody else

I will never be your son

you are not my father
you are just the man who fucks my mom
and you have no right to hit me
I will never be your son
you're telling me to toughen up
you're going to show me how
what's it feel like on the other side?
who's the tough one now?

I'm not saying what I do is right
but I know that it's not wrong

(inspired by The Snowtown Murders, an Australian film)

January. It's fucked.

You know what I think is totally fuckin' useless? January. What a fucked month. My younger brother was born in January and that's the only good thing about January. The weather is always fuckin' gray and wet and cold and miserable and the month goes on waaaay too long.

What about Martin Luther King Day, farmboy?

Okay, man, you got me there. That's a good holiday. That's an important holiday. I like it because it gives teachers the chance to have the students explore the civil rights movement and their racist parents can't do a fuckin' thing about it. Plus he was a leader in civil rights and he believed in non-violence. Now there's a hero who deserves a holiday.

But the rest of January...man, it's just so fuckin' long! I mean, it never fuckin' ends, you know. It just creeps on by.

Another thing is that the school system pays us monthly, on the last day of school. Which means I get paid in the middle of December and then I don't get paid again till the end of January. It's fucked.

All right farmboy, I understand. What good is happening in your life?

Hey! I'm not through complaining, man! I have a right to whine!

Yes you do, farmboy. But you also have the right to feel good sometimes.

I know, man. Sometimes I just need to vent. Sorry, man.

(farmboy sits silently for a few seconds)

But January, man. January is so fucked.