1-Jan-2005

Happy New Years everyone!! Indeed, it was a very happy New Years for me.

Archangel / January 1, 2006 / Personal, xanga / 0 Comments

Where in the darkness lies, the silent tears of a man in pain.

Crying alone it is to be
never letting anyone see,
How I hurt, how I suffer
I pretend I am tougher,
It is by far the better
to seem to be the go getter.

Always trying to be bright
shelve it all for the night,
No one sees, no one knows
they see, smiles and glows,
Suffer this in utter silence
or pay the price of penance.

Bound in chains of despair
to tell all I do not dare,
Stupid me, it is my fault
because I’m always such a dolt,
Why can’t I just be normal
stand up straight and be tall.

 

Everyone is selfish in life. Even if they aren’t, they will be perceived to be. I claim to be a good selfless person, but sadly the truth is, because I hide it I’m probably the most selfish of all. I’ve been angry at my father for years… probably since they day I learned to say dad. He’s never been a good father to me, he was barely a husband to my mom, and a vindictive ignoramus to my brother. He left my house, and to a degree my life when I was 16, and somehow that hurt. I thought it shouldn’t so I kept it hidden away, and still do. When I was almost 18 I tried to have a relationship with him. The bulk of our conversations of the last 3 years circled around how my he disliked my mom and how much money he didn’t want to spend on me. I tried to tell him so many times that I didn’t want to hear it, that it wasn’t my business and that it wasn’t my place to mend this wound for him. Well, my mom recently moved back to Ohio and it has been easier to go to her house than suffer my dad. He called me out on it Christmas day and told his family that I was good for nothing and ungrateful. In response, I left him a letter on his kitchen table saying that I wasn’t going to talk to him anymore. I was selfish to hold on to the pain and anger, I was selfish to not visit him and listen to his woes, and now I’ve caused a rift between us that I don’t think either of us can mend. You’d think that this wouldn’t matter much to me given my history with him… I thought the same, but I cry for it now.

There is really only one person whom I can talk to, other than myself in this journal and in my thoughts. Of course in my loneliness and hurt and silence of the night I would turn to her, but she turned from me. I don’t think on purpose or for any reason other than she wanted to sleep, but she turned from me… and I cry for that too. For in the dead of the night, I’m truly only left with myself and God, who only gives comfort when it would glorify Him. His plan it great, His vision is long, and I am left alone.

Archangel / December 28, 2005 / Personal, xanga / 0 Comments

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21-Dec-2005

Yay for being 21… I don’t feel any different.

Archangel / December 21, 2005 / Personal, xanga / 0 Comments

12-Dec-2005

Quite possibly the most touching military poem I’ve ever heard/read. One of the better Christmas poems too…

“Merry Christmas, My Friend” by LCpl James M Schmidt, USMC, 1986

  Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.”
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight .

 

 

I’ll put this at the bottom since it is far less touching, but absolutely hillarious.

“The Night Santa Went Crazy”

Down in the workshop all the elves were makin’ toys
For the good Gentile girls and the good Gentile boys
When the boss busted in, nearly scared ’em half to death
Had a rifle in his hands and cheap whiskey on his breath
From his beard to his boots he was covered with ammo
Like a big fat drunk disgruntled Yuletide Rambo
And he smiled as he said with a twinkle in his eye,
“Merry Christmas to all – now you’re all gonna die!”

The night Santa went crazy
The night St. Nick went insane
Realized he’d been gettin’ a raw deal
Something finally must have snapped in his brain

Well, the workshop is gone now, he decided to bomb it
Everywhere you’ll find pieces of Cupid and Comet
And he tied up his helpers and he held the elves hostage
And he ground up poor Rudolph into reindeer sausage
He got Dancer and Prancer with an old German Luger
And he slashed up Dasher just like Freddy Krueger
And he picked up a flamethrower and he barbequed Blitzen
And he took a big bite and said, “It tastes just like chicken!”

The night Santa went crazy
The night Kris Kringle went nuts
Now you can’t hardly walk around the North Pole
Without steppin’ in reindeer guts

There’s the National Guard and the F.B.I.
There’s a van from the Eyewitness News
And helicopters circlin’ ’round in the sky
And the bullets are flyin’, the body count’s risin’
And everyone’s dyin’ to know, oh Santa, why?
My my my my my my
You used to be such a jolly guy

Yes, Virginia, now Santa’s doin’ time
In a federal prison for his infamous crime
Hey, little friend, now don’t you cry no more tears
He’ll be out with good behavior in 700 more years
But now Vixen’s in therapy and Donner’s still nervous
And the elves all got jobs working for the postal service
And they say Mrs. Clause, she’s on the phone every night
With her lawyer negotiating the movie rights

They’re talkin’ bout – the night Santa went crazy
The night St. Nicholas flipped
Broke his back for some milk and cookies
Sounds to me like he was tired of gettin’ gypped

Wo, the night Santa went crazy
The night St. Nick went insane
Realized he’s gettin’ a raw deal
Something finally must have snapped in his brain
Wo, something finally must have snapped in his brain
Tell ya, something finally must have snapped… in his brain

Archangel / December 12, 2005 / Personal, xanga / 1 Comment