Be Well.

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My head is cracking

My liver bursting

My kidneys clapping.

I can’t even write Cleary so I figured this was the best moment for me to get my thoughts down.

Maybe I can decode it all later.

My stomach feels as big as a dump truck.

I’m physically ill.

I’m sweating constantly.

Cold showers just make me itchy.

I can’t get out of bed before 9:30 and that’s only because they keep knocking and knocking and knocking.

Opening the door with a dumb look on their face like they are surprised they woke me.

Man thats fuck up.

Oh there is the spark I was waiting for.


Haha that did it.

Let’s go....

Plastic faces melting all over my paperwork with pills bursting out the sides.

Can I talk to you for a minute? Um can I have a cup of coffee before we get in the dugout and you show my your batting list please?

You so a doctor yesterday.

Yeah and?

Do you know why he gave you all these vitamins first?

Obviously you know and want to know how awake I am before my cup of coffee and play games. Ok I’ll play along.

Yes one is for my adrenal gland. One is for my bowel movement or lack their of. And the other is to Piss like a normal human being!

Can I have my fucking coffee now? Greaaaaaaat thanks....

oh one more thing does it hurt when I poke right dead in the middle of your body like THIS!

Fuck! Yes. Am I dying?

Please tell me that has something to do with why I was in Daltons art gallery being chased by Dominicans and we all had to be detoured through Southampton to fake being asleep while robert had a session with Sam and to cross America back in the late 1800s to surf ditch in a snow storm?  Etan’s truck exploded at 3am right before I woke up to that thunderstorm, I promised the firefighters I would not come back. sweating through my sheets.

Back to what I was saying.

Fuckkk! That hurts!

Does anyone else find it ironic that my doctors name is Koke? I just can’t grow up sometimes. He might as well be called doctor weiner cause I still get a kick out of it like a 5 year old giggling.

The cleaning ladies are literally hiding in the room next door. I’m about to blast some Marylyn Manson to scare them down stairs.

Stares. At their phones laughing.

Yes I am the anti christ superstar ladies and you better go find religion elsewhere.

El Diablo! Run! 

Just kidding they are sweet. But seriously get the fuck out of here.

Come in!

Oh hey doc. Yeah I’m ready to get stripped of my security blanket. But my insides are on the outside at the moment. Will it matter?

Well let’s just give it a try.

Ok I trust you.

My lips move on their own sometimes just to not upset anyone.

I’m scared.

I want to go home and get into my Venus fly trap.

And fall asleep to pretzels seltzer and squonk boxes.

Something familiar.

That thunder storm has turned this place into a shitshow. It’s bad when they ask me how to clean up a mess like that. I can’t even clean my own shit up.

My wife. I miss her.

How scared does it take to get will I wonder?

Well soon find out I think.

Hell week is upon me.

I hope it rains all week long.

Shagwong Curfuffle

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 “Shagwongs Curfuffel”

Twisted time it’s minds we bend

Doctors clothing hello my friend

Gaining speed we insist we tread

Muddy waters forge ahead

Tipping sideways laughing bliss

Pushing thorn bushes with our wrist

Whirling dervish peaches perfect

Tart and sweet damn near complete

Pull me apart and tie me thin

You’ll never let out this cold glum grin

Fuck you instead your hand I dread

Fake eyes and lips a poisonous bed

Hello goodbye you hate me too

Around and around we could trade shoes

I like mine more they fit so well.

Noose around my neck and Bell.

You fake you drink god heavens think

You’ll be dead soon enough you treasonous fink

I once was sat in that withering chair

I told a tale one day I’ll sail

Lied lies liar tongues catch fire

Put it out with some whisky you’ll soon get tired

A sniff a wiff a glittering gist

Two bathroom stalls that act of This

Courage and talk of greater things

The light turns on oh god it’s him

The chirps the chips the light seeks through

You know just what just what to do

You call your man the glittering hand

He won’t pick up the clock ticked hand

It’s more then gold  it steals your soul

A bag a pinch a pack to hold.

Body lay still in the early rise

Tonight turned to day with no lullaby’s

you lay dead still your heart beats deep

Still alone you’ll never sleep.

Two drops of this a couple of those

You stink of cigs your disgusting clothes

You pray to god to cut you loose

Chained to this unhinged caboose

You toss you kick you slither and bend

Find that position you trade each end.

Finally out your body still

Waking up from now with nil.

Your eyes hurt Deep your jittering jaw

You fight for life you creep you crawl

Just one huff and it can all be still

Deep inside that mouth of guilt

Call the man the glittering hand

Can you please deliver that white gold sand.

I’ll be right there just stay your way

A pack like this will start your day

A round a round a round we go the glittering lights false hope we sow

The glittering hand can’t release your spin

A perfect plane crash will let you in

Rocky bottoms take some time

You must be sure you’ve crossed the line

There is no glow at first you see

We tell you once do as we

Follow the ways the others carved

Tip the till it can’t be so hard

It’s not easy but we can try

To finally go to sleep with that lullaby

Ya see Glittering hand was no real plan 

That only worked short time short manned

Huddled masses will keep you in

You actually never had that cold dark grin

It was sick dis ease the devils cry

To keep you from that lullaby

You won’t have to go back there they truly care

At first you’re scared this is not fair

No more fakes and no more ghouls

Get rid of all those stained brown shoes

New clothes to wear no cross to bare

Cheap seats that will save you no matter where.

Pick up your mug and share your seat

Talk about that long dark street

Two minds alike will help you grow

To ease your pain from far day’s ago

So just keep coming back, I heard being said

Perfect peaches lullaby’s is the trade off instead.

Mental Health Awareness

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Mental health awareness. Tough subject. A lot of people don’t know that Iv been battling depression for a long time. It’s usually covered by photos of saturated surf photos and beautiful sunsets. I think I’m drawn to those things because that’s what I want my life to be/feel like when I’m really in the thick of it. But what happened was I got almost annoyed with my own Work. Felt pretty fraudulent. And I started to do it more for you then for myself. Scared of losing you or letting you in on what I was Realy feeling at the time. You can look back on some of my work and see moments that show my deeper truth. That I’m pretty miserable sometimes. And I lash out and I hurt myself most cause of it. I know deep down I’m not that angry guy. I’m just stuck under the floorboards of a really sick person who is crying for help some days. It’s hard to breath down here. What’s worse is that Iv experienced long term happiness and content so I know what it feels like. So I have a reference point and when I’m depressed I get extra upset that I just can’t feel good, right. This. Second...

I work constantly on trying to see the good in my situation. It’s really hard. I know I can help someone someday. But it’s hard to get the mask around my own head sometimes before I can even think of saving the passenger next to me. I try to leave my house as much as I can. people freak me out to be honest. I feel like I’m walking around naked and everyone knows that I’m sick and suffering and it makes me embarrassed to be around happy people. I’m not the type of guy to want to break up a good party on my own account of being sad. so I isolate. I chain myself to the bed pretty much. Somedays I isolate so hard I can’t even turn on the TV in fear of outside issues. My pig gets me. My dog loves me. My wife is supporting. But when your in it you feel a million miles away from everyone.

So I had a few disturbed friends and family after reading my posts on here. Please don’t take everything in my poems and stories at face value. A lot of context had other meanings to me then what the word I use actually means. Yes it’s dark moody angry. Sorry not sorry. But I Can’t post anymore pretty photos and sunsets and feel like a fraud. That will only fuel my depression and isolation. At least in my pain I can be authentic. I want to reach a smaller community with this. Ones that can understand what I’m going through. If you don’t get my writings, just be grateful haha! That means you’re doing well and have never had to walk down this dark isle. And I’m happy for you. Truly. You are blessed. I’m blessed as well but with other attributes. If you are feeling disconnected or disturbed just know you are not alone and you have nothing to be ashamed of. At all. A lot of stigma still plagues mental illness. I won’t get into that because it just drives me up the wall. Be well.

James.

P.s. If someone says they are depressed. That is not an open invitation for advice. Some people just want to talk. Please for the love of god do not tell them to take a walk and snub them off. Listen to them and yeah maybe ask them to take a walk WITH YOU. Not alone.

Playgrounds

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Just Another ass fuck holiday parade.

Too tired to even acknowledge my own presence. Break the mirror. Don’t shower. Just bathe in your own smell of self centered pain.

Ask how people are doing?

Focus outside of yourself while being trapped in Alcatraz dreaming across the bay to freedom.

Feed all the pigeons again? Yes. 

Practice.

Be...Selfless.

Be Neo in the matrix.

These dreams have got to stop. Got to pop. Got to look down the barrel of a 12 gauge...cop.

another resentment.

Against my own will.

Nobody is getting shit from me.

Was that cool. Enough. for you?

The words I mean. Not the meaning.

Rip it out and smother it in down comforters. Until it can make itself up.

My mind.

Like the bed spread sprawled out all over my floor.

Extremely Countable nights of self torture brought on by days activities and “self help” talks and “your doing great’s” by everyone who has never been in my shoes and has Never tasted my laces.

The taste of dirt and the view of a crow. Don’t. Look. Down.

You had to look.

Asshole.

Illness. What a funny word.

Keep saying it till it loses its meaning.

Faster!

ill.....ness....

The Finesse of being ill.

I’m getting good at this illness. I’d say it’s pretty ripe for the picking.

Illness.

Block out all sense of hope and joy.

Check!

Too tired to work out.

Check!

This mind won’t jog.

Check!

It’s crippled like Superman.

Wait...I loved Superman. Scratch that from

The record.

A stagnant pile Of waste that you have to hold your nose to walk by. A flooded cesspool on a hot summer day that can never be emptied.

The shitshow that just grows larger and I fall in deeper.

If I told you my dreams you would surely run or at least pull your chair away To avoid catching what ever Dis Ease this is. It was definitely sexually transmitted. 

Iv been pulling my own chair closer to the tree for months.

I can’t stand myself ugh? My...self...

Selfish.

Don’t you want to kill him? Why? He’s doing it for me. Slower, better, uglier. more brutal then I ever could. His hand gripping a beer.

But you shake his hand? Yes. to feel him tremble when he feels my skin again. His crawls out the door. His soul. A lifeless skeleton of a being that only needs to hear three words.

I love you.

It might have saved my life.

I love you

could of saved my childhood.

I love you

I never would of trashed that house

I love you

I never would of tried to burn down the school

I love you

I might not have shot that guy

I love you

I might not have stuck that needle in my arm.

I hate you...

He could save lives if he wanted.

I hate you.

I hate you so much so that I hope you get well.

Stay away from the playground.

We’ll play on the grounds that if I get to hurt you forever I’ll let you be my friend.

Cool. I’m in. No. You’re in. Urine. Urine side my mind.

Change my blood soaked pants.


The best representation of IT i can give is john mclain Stuck inside an airshaft for Christmas. Can’t see forward can’t look backwards but the fire burns in his hand and I’m the hero.

Stuck.

Come to the coast have a few laughs. It’s never as funny as I remember it to be.

All the crying and dirt in my mouth. It never gets better.

Abandon all hope for a better past!

Anxiety is your future. But today is a gift with no return label. Your fucking stuck with it. No, you can not regift it to a family member you only see once every 10

Years.

How are you doing?

I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.

Fucked up

Insecure

Neurotic

Emotional

Fine, be that way. Thank you I will.

I’m the pit boss again and will brown is giving sacrificial cinnamon bread to the havalenas outside of my motel 6 room.

They smell the fresh kill.

Our souls are lifted. Momentarily with a false sense of pride wearing cheap robes. But that only works between these four walls. They are non eligible coupons in our day to day lives. They’ll never be used. Just stuck in the back of the junk draw. You open it once in awhile just to remember a happier time.

Slam it shut.

Ring the bell.

The golden scrolls and a box of weird trinkets that meant so much to nobody’s that had it all worked out. I keep some on my desk to remember their faces. But not their names. They all are laughing at you.

Where are they now?

Taking turns spinning the wheel getting drunk.

Half could be dead.

Half could be high.

Another half could be happy. Math was never my thing anyway.

But I doubt it cause

Someone would have surely reported back by now if that was true.

I reach out to see who won’t pick up the phone.

Narrow down the casualties of war and report back to basecamp.

They’re already dead...

Fire Side Chats Full Of Rats

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I just want to be around people that I can’t stand at the moment. Iv never wanted to isolate in plain sight more in my life till right now.

Right this fucking second.

Immediate dissatisfaction is the soup of the day Around here.

Don’t like it? Tough Shit.

Your winning.

Yogis shamans spirit guides and life coaches.

All they want to do is help you and help themselves to your wallet on your person who is dying and desperate for a new way of living out the rest of my death bed.

Someone seriously needs to change the sheets.

I feel like I’m at the carnival and I just want to find that Zoltan dollar machine to make me BIG again.

In my pants.

These meds are not working. For anyone.

You’ll be amazed before you are half way through. that you’ve been talking to a complete fucking moron for the last half hour...No dollar in a basket is going to reimburse any of that lost time.

That’s for damn sure.

Speak up but don’t speak direct.

Cover the facts and be as sarcastic as humanly possible Without getting caught. Thy will not mine be done. With this bullshit shitshow. Stop...touching...my...fucking...shoulder. Amen.

I wish you a slow recovery. Well I wish you would shut the fuck Up before you even began to speak.

3 minutes are up.

You are not important anymore and no one will remember you’re thoughtfully planned out execution of a tattered life.

How do you feel about your feelings?

Well If this was a stock I would short the fuck out of it.

Why did a clown become a worker among workers and keep 48 bodies underneath his house.

He was a loving father.

Is it fear? Is it fear? Is it fear? Is it fear?

Yes it’s anger. That’s why I’m leaving.

In my mind.

And I’m giving you the finger on the way out.

Touch the button answer the door.

Knock louder.

If we’re all human and that guys a total asshole then I’m a total asshole.

Raw abstract blank canvases.

Familiarity.

I.q.

E.q.

Keep on knocking.

Cause the Yankees are down and I can’t get to my meds till the inning is over.

You fat slob.

No not me.

The power trip of a robot fucker that sleeps on the floor next to my diminishing hope.

Give me my fucking meds chowdaaa breath.

Is a stone a Stone?

Not if your passing it.

Don’t hurt. Feel nothing. Keep it on the grass.

Anxiety is fear in four syllables and I can’t see the upside at all.

I hate grammar. But I love to write. Go figure. Another genetic mishap that left me at the gate.

Our full frontal cortex is on display and the whole world can’t swallow this giant load and the ending that they weren’t expecting just got blown in their face.

Facials.

That dumb look on your face. 

Pass out the acid. I need to get comfy.

Too much focus. Too much emotion. Too much fear. Too much conversation around this conversation.

Worst fire talk ever. Pass out the acid

Yes we live in a giant gauntlet of emotions. It’s the game operation and every time we touch the side our body buzzes us back into rehab. And we have to start all over and get bumped to the beginning.

Sorry!

You’ll never get the piece of cheese. You will not pass go. You actually owe me $200 dollars and that’s before taxes.

I’m sick.

Oh hear we go again.

Keep complaining harder. They hear nothing.

Well if you would just turn your head for 3 fucking seconds you could see I’m bleeding out all over the floor.

Did she just step over me???

That. Bitch.

Fear is an acceptable emotion.

But only when it serves everyone else.

We’re all just ones and zeros.

Zero times zero is zero.

You beautiful zero.

10 AM


12 gauge in the city. Legal or not legal? what am I listening to right now?

It takes two to make a Thing go right.

Like fire and oxygen lighting up a church on Columbus Day weekend.

We’re all here ya know. Were all waiting for you.

It’s a smooth blend of Earth Wind and Fire mixed to crazy train. You wouldn’t think it but it goes together hand and hand.

How can I get back In the will you ask?

I can’t.

And my parents aren’t even dead yet.

Iv been sent down to the minors and not only that Iv been benched and banished  to rehab cause I hurt myself and I need to get well.

I hurt my...mind.

I will fucking end you.

End me?

Ends meet.

Make ends meat.

Like a T-bone steak in a deep freezer Ready for consumption.

Just let my brain shit it out.

EN...VY...US. Envious!

Yeah,That’s how you spell it.

Meds.

Making medicinal Meditations about meditating about who is the leader.

No one leads.

Just stop talking so I can hear myself scream.

It’s like lord of the flies meets Qui Gong around here.

Just drop the rock already.

On my fucking head.

The short legged heel monster is shaking the whole house and I just want to drink the kool aid and be done with her.

Save the children!

Fuck the children.

If we’re dead who can save our planet? Ummmm, the planet can save our planet.

She has for millions of years and we have the audacity to think we’re killing her and winning the war.

She’s gna shake us off like a bad case of fleas on a wet dog.

George Carlin said that once. I tend to believe anyone that is smart and angry.

If your not angry right now you are not paying attention.

Get. Fucking. Angry.

Cause this fucking place is

seething. Teething. Heaving. It’s screaming. Everything hurts everyone.

But we just turn up the mind radio and tune in to our facescreens, Skin smoother apps and fat filters to mask our lives.

I don’t know Spanish!

If we could all just stick to the international language of common decency I promise I’ll build that wall around my neck with a set of ropes so tight that it would cut a hole in your heart. Grateful to be punched.

Acupunched.

I actually Punched out of work to sit home and stare into my fan guessing it’s weight limit.

It just won’t hold me.

Turn off the tv and listen to the news.

This just in.... You’re out!

I once heard a wise man say,

Kristien Gontara, she fucked up, she sucked my cock.

They took him away in a cop car shortly after.

Best thing I ever heard as a kid.

Who wouldn’t want to be taken away in a cop car while the neighbors watched and your wife screamed for icepacks cause I might just loose my body again on our anniversary date.

My own way to space camp.

HBO.

How. blatantly. obvious

I’m sick

I’m hurt

I’m too much for people to handle in my time of need.

I need to want something more attainable like mediocrity.

What gym do you go to? The Y. That’s where I go.

No not me.

I go to the shore to be reminded of a past of rage among waves and fistfuls of street cred battling perfect people and ungodly influencers.

Influencers...

The worst kind of people.

They taught us not to be influenced by friends as a kid.

Now they give out blue badges of honor with Purple Hearts cause everyone is just dying to meet you. Dying to know you. Dying to be influenced by a person who couldn’t influence a pack of starving wolves to eat a fresh kill in their own cave.

But now we follow.

Trend.

How am I doing today? How the fuck do I know? Most relative questions to relative people who revel In the thought of you being miserable.

Just keep walking bub.

No time for the stop and chat.

Larry David had it all right.

Victim of circumstances.

I make my own circumstance, take your inventory and make it fit my agenda. Which is basically to look not so scared all the time and that I have it all together.

I’m sick of having it all together. When I never had IT at all.

What is IT ALL anyway?

I tried to buy it on amazon once and nothing came up. Only direct fresh dildos and flannels on the cheap.

Newsflash!

James is not allowed to have his own thoughts at the moment.

Or on the matter.

Matter of fact We’ve been taken over by poorly paid robots with too much makeup on who want to know the same old thing over and over again.

How... are... you... doinnnnnn.....?

Aw. Poor james.

He must be sad cause he doesn’t like to smile before 10am.

But before we get to that let’s just take a look at the circumstances surrounding the situation.

A: people make me Sick.

B: they think I’m a sweet heart.

C: I don’t like to be happy before 10 AM!

God did not create all men and women equal for good reason!

To shut the fucking happy people up that are deafening to the rest of the world.

Just say thank you and,

Fuck. Off.

Back to what I was saying. I have no idea what I was saying. I bet it was something really profound and moody and I just can’t wait to get a reaction from the pinball R.E.M sleep machine. I’m all out of quarters but this is the Bonus round. It’ll all be over soon anyway and the arcade will be closing and the girl on your shoulder will leave with the jock anyhow.

You’ll smell your shirt to remind yourself of a heroic time in your life where life managed to feel like life.

I think.

Smells like it felt like a good time. 

Wrap it around your face and masturbate to it.

I’m stuck in the parking lot with a rusty bike waiting in the rain for a van to pick me up and drive me to the house with the man with no legs.

He’ll walk all over you.

If you let him.

I would.

And you would totally follow me and then unfollow me and secretly stalk my molestation for an ego kick. And post another ripped off saturated “like” magnet on your fridge.

I hate fucking likes.

Fans...

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Money for nothing and my likes for free...

 I am the anti hero...  

I am the anti hero...  

Bombarded with this disease of disconnect from the loud world which is social media I decided to make a blog. I honestly don’t care if you follow it or not. It’s not for you unfortunately. It’s for me. I want to be able to share photos for myself. Weird concept right? I just got to the point where my intentions of posting photos were based upon an audience that doesn’t even know me. They think they do. But they don’t. I am not what you see via Instagram or Facebook. That shit is a lie. For a lot of people it is. I mean who wants to read about someone’s shit day. That’s not going to gain many likes. So trying to really connect my art and actual life again was a challenge for me on any of those platforms. Life is hard. Life can be shitty. Life is not always colorful. There isn’t always a sunset and not everyone is having the best day of their life,  Every. Fucking. Day. Does this reasonate with anyone? (Bueller? Bueller? Anyone? Anyone?) Well good news if it does cause that means your human and live on planet fucking earth! Let’s talk about “Likes.”I hate that word. Let’s just group that together next to the word “cool.” Like what the fuck is a like? A like is the 5 seconds of attention a mindless scroller has awarded you with saying “hey you stimulated a minimum amount of dopamine in my brain for me to lift my index finger and press an imaginary heart to give you some self validation for the day. But tomorrow you better try harder.” That’s absurd if you really step back and take a look at it. You don’t even have to be a photographer or artist to be affected by this. In fact! I dare say that your life my be even more depressing because you might be comparing someone’s outsides with your insides. Like “oh man why am I stuck In this cubicle and this photographer is out galavanting taking photos of zebras in Africa?!” or whatever! It doesn’t matter. The emotions are the same. It leads you back to depression. You feel less then. Nothing good comes of it. And it’s my belief that social media is turning into a disease like drugs and alcohol. It might not kill you but it will sure make you wish you were dead at times. Believe me Iv been there. I will be the first to come foward and admit I was and am addicted to social media. That rush of the likes and shares. Pathetic right? Yup I know. But the scientific explanation is that it effects the same receptors in your brain that cocaine hits when you push it up your face. If you havnt done coke just think (3 Red Bull’s and an orgasm at the same time while getting a head massage) fleeting...so you have to keep doing more. But that’s a whole other blog. So getting back to the whole point of starting this thing. Reason one for me is zero expectations from anyone. I won’t know who read this, If you liked it, Agreed with it, Hate me for it. You absolutely do not matter! Haha! Insane right. I’m sorry if that comes off as selfish and egotistical but in fact I’m trying to do the direct opposite with this blog. I’m Takeing time for some self care and squashing my ego. This is me without your opinion to sway my life in any direction based on false validation of it.  

 Best,  

James Katsipis