The Colonel

Night time silly thinking

All of my life I felt I would become someone...famous. Not movie star famous, but scientist famous, psychologist famous, important the the human race somehow. With my environment as of late, those thoughts have slight altered. Sometimes I find myself wondering if...maybe I have become too eager in my want of things out of life.. A nice big house with my wife, full of kids and animals, an easy life. Sometimes I wonder if my role in the world has already been chosen for me...and if so is that role going to be that forty year old woman who lives alone working at a local gas station for the rest of he life? Inside of my I don't dare think of that as my future...but sometimes I can't help but wonder if fate is against me and I am just riding the current no matter how hard I kick and scream and beg for help..

Anyway...this was just a little slice into what I think about at night when I can't sleep. Or I have slept and am awake for no apparent reason. Maybe it's my fear of being attacked at night by the living dead kicking in...the need to stay awake and protect those who are asleep. Who knows! Thanks for reading! 8D
The Colonel

Why do I bother?

I really don't know why...I do my best and all I get in return is shit.
Right now I feel...sad. Depressed. My chest feels strangely empty at the moment.
I hate this...I hate this feeling.
Fucking depression.
I am tired of being sad.
I am taking my girlfriend on a date when we get to our house.
A nice place.
I love her so much.
She means the world to me.
I don't know what I would do without her and anytime and day of the year I would totally go back with her in time and save James Dean and Marilyn Monroe.
The Colonel

Just came home...

So I just spent most of my day at a bus station and then on a bus. It was alright. I managed to down a 6'' sub in less than a minute. Is it disgusting I find that awesome? Ha! Well...I was so happy to see my girlfriend today. She was the only thing keeping me going at the house I was cleaning. It was such a mess... -Sigh.- Anyway. I am glad to be back in her arms. I wish I had a cool theme for my
The Colonel


His hands shake. He's got that far away look in his eyes. He glances at me but he's not there. I believe I've just met the sandman.

[ This is a very short little poem I wrote to myself with my phone while standing at a Greyhound bus station in the rain waiting on a new bus since the one we had broke down. I took several pictures of this man. He seemed very strange to me. Very very pained. His body was pained and his mind was as well. He had salt and pepper hair, black jeans, a nascar shirt, and a thick black jacket. His hands shook as he smoked. In the hour that we stood there he smoked about....ten cigarettes. Which seems like a lot to me. Anyway...I thought he could be something magical. Maybe some kind of lost god or angel, pained with the things he knows and sees, looking into a world we have no idea about. ]