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parlor tricks for cynics and shut-ins!
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| My sweet Michael |
[26 Jun 2008|01:58pm] |
This is not Paganini, this is his Mom. I want to thank all of you who have posted here in his memory. I also want to thank those of you who were his True Friends, who tried to stop his downward spiral. The person you all know as Paganini from his writings here did not know the real Michael. Some of you who knew him got brief glimpses of the real Michael who was a loving father and a wonderful son and brother. Paganini was, as he called it, his "evil twin" that he fought so long and hard against; it does not honor him or his memory to give power to the very thing he fought.
To those of you who within these pages, and in his life, facilitated and encouraged his decline into alcholic madness and suicide, you were not his friends!
Michael was a good man who loved his son and his family. He loved music and books. He loved to laugh and have fun. He was a great friend with a listening ear to anyone who hurt emotionally. He loved people and life. Paganini died on Fathers Day, Michael Emmett Smith Jr. lives.
To all of you here, good friends and bad, please charish the good memories you have of Michael; Paganini is gone, find somewhere else to talk. I love you Michael, Mom
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[20 Jun 2008|01:02pm] |
He went off with a Zippo lighter in his pocket and a picture of his son in his hands. Can't think of a better way for him to go, looking all spruced up in his brother's black wedding suit, with a pretty tie, and shaved up all neat and clean.
Still have nightmares about the bathroom, doing better, if not fine. There is a difference between "better" and "good". I am currently "better". Are those sirens that I hear...oh, never mind.
Want to thank almost all of you that responded with extreme gratitude...Tom, Judith, Melissa, Jill, the live journal user names that I can't put a name or face to, all of you are appreciated. Only one came up that I didn't want to hear from, and being Dusty, I think that is done. Love you all tons, as did my best friend.
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| Thank you |
[16 Jun 2008|10:07pm] |
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For those of you that I have spoken to, either on e-mail or telephone, I can't tell you how much you have helped in my greif. To be able to talk, to sometimes laugh, to share thoughts and stories makes it easier for me--okay, its not real easy to go into the bathroom, but its getting better. That Michael had people who cared so deeply is important to me. Again, may he find peace.
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| post script |
[16 Jun 2008|06:48am] |
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I found the entry, and choose to keep it as private. I have not deleted it, but do believe that it is to personal and accusatory to post. Any questions about that, feel free to reply.
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| Fini |
[16 Jun 2008|04:15am] |
This will more than likely be Paganini's last entry, written not by himself but by the actual flesh and blood Dusty. Paganini passed away last night for the second time, the first time being yesterday morning on my bathroom floor. The paramedics and I brought him back, but he was not able to maintain blood pressure, and thankfully his family didn't go with heroic measures that he would have hated.
He asked me to post something after his death some months ago, but I need to find it, and quite honestly see if is more harmful than an expression of himself.
For those of you that actually knew him, please know that I feel the pain of his loss with you, he was my best friend. I did all for him I could, but WalMart is more of a killing field than can be imagined--I went to the store and when I came back he was grey and not breathing on my bathroom floor. So unlock the front door, call 911 and start CPR. Paramedics got him with a pulse and some respiration and the hospital worked on him for 13 hours before his father called and gave me the news
For those of you who post anonymous comments or of an unkind nature, let me just assume the royal stance in his honor and bellow a resounding "FUCK YOU".
May he finally find the peace he didn't find among us.
Michael E Smith, Jr 5/25/70-6/15/08, you're my best friend.
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| to whom it may concern |
[09 Jun 2008|03:43pm] |
oh baby, please. i do exactly the same- you probably already know how bad night tv is. and know nothing of daytime. it's full blown out depression.
it's complete depression. it hurts to read you're skilled at the of falling apart. i haven't showed or shaved for a couple months. i haven't eaten in a week.
i've been and still am there
i live on vodka and water and bad tv and cigarettes. i'm malnurished, i'm dehydrated, i piss yellow all through the night.
please take care. don't call the cops on me. i mean well. it's almost a year and i haven't bothered you at all.
it just hurts that you have so much on your plate, and i'm not the one to be there for you, do anything about it.
dusty bought razors today, there is a sun around the horizon. never quit.
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| damage, incorporated |
[09 Jun 2008|02:08pm] |
http://youtube.com/watch?v=htAZEHcUanA
if the little fucker upstairs doesn't knock off his shit, and dragging along all his little prick friends to join in ther bullshit. god there's people who nightshift. there's old ladies who get scared.
and there's me. me!
wanting to get an excuse to take pliers and rip your teeth out if you're that much of a bastard on this planet. look i live with a lady roomate who slit the throat of a man in an ew york city apartment lobby. it's easy kids.
there will be trouble, there will be kids wishing for better days,
there will be single mothers having to get out their checkbooks for the damage about to be done.
(oh,the cheesy high school song that ends with violence is not the answer- true. but vegance when you're not looking?- priceless)
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| MAX THE CAT!!!!! |
[09 Jun 2008|01:22pm] |
(weird part, the thing elliot is sitting on, i drilled it all up and cut room for belt loops to tie my ankles down and stick it on the stairs, me hanging upside down, trying to stretch out my back. god when it was so often hard to walk, i was using it so much- i felt like gomez addams! but it worked, as retarded as i looked, yes and i know i always look retarded, but it worked)
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| lyrics from being 16- hell it made the radio, damn |
[09 Jun 2008|07:34am] |
i can't see much
from where i stand
and my point of view
is a worthless thing
i'm denying the world
from taking my hand
and i'm waking away
from a brand new day
so i sing
who am i
why am i here
where in the world am i going
and my life?
i feel it slipping away
feel happynes
when look in your eyes
but lean over here
for one big whisper
scream it!
who am i
why am i here
where in the world am i going
and my life?
i feel it slipping away
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| L&R |
[09 Jun 2008|07:31am] |
you can't get a sun tan on the moon
but i wouldn't mind a holiday there
they say you can't get a sun tan on the moon
but i wouldn't mind a holiday there
thank you mr. president for my holiday
courtesy of NASA
i wish i could say that i wish you were here
but thank you all the same sir
what a wonderfull time
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| electric blue betta fish, phone call reminding me to feed him |
[28 May 2008|11:52am] |
so, yup, birthday somewhere last weekend, i have a bad habit of self destruction on my birtyday, this one was a massive lost weekend on vodka.
the worst was when i screenprinted and passed out in the bathroom at work with a rail of crank
dusty laughs at me all the time , now that i'm awakening
she buys me 2 2litres of vodka, a walgreens card. i know she's my only friend, but i couldn't ask for better.
when i go to jail, she's the only one that puts money on my books.
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[23 May 2008|12:39pm] |
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[22 May 2008|12:32pm] |
walking to circle k. down the street. and i get hit by a passing car of drunk young kids with a unopened beer can right on the shoulder. unfurtunately, the light was red, so i use my pitching arm and throw a rock through his back windshield and run.
don't fuck with me. talk to me.
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[21 May 2008|11:45pm] |
love is blind
and now so am i
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| steve hyslop |
[21 May 2008|12:38pm] |
steve was a herion addict. i screenprinted next to him. he didn't say "go" like a race, i took the job as lazy, no, he said "go" like "get it the fuck done"
made no sense, no one cared. workday ends the same way. but i was so methed out, i printed out twice of him.
this one morning he tells me about his girlfriend. she used to be married to a vietnam vet. there first wedding anniversary, his in the shower, and she wants to suprise him and get in there, she disrobes.
then slips , breaking the glass of the shower. she gets all slit up and bleeding all over, she's dying, .he screams for 911 to the daughter.
he's got glass in his back and feet.
the guy freaks out and the daughter runs upstairs and tries to hold everyone, 911 on the way, the two naked and bleeding, the guy with his eyes rolling in the back of his head. trying not to imagine the jungle nightmares.
it takes a toll on everyone around.
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| the law of of averages. |
[20 May 2008|07:31pm] |
bug squished like the USofA
it's the law of averages
in the freedom of choice
the land of diversity
many channels on just Cox cable
variety of strip malls with the same shit
so many places to go buy borrow credit up
but the odds are
in your library
your videos with blue cards
books to check out and run
the chances are
there's atleast one bastard
someone
some other person
the same thing
drinking the same wine
laughing at the same hip magazine
that great pearl of great price
and on a couch at late Nick At Night TV
so, chances are
someone next to us
won't talk to us but
like everyone eventually
ends up with one dead body stuffed in their refrigerator
it's the law of averages.
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paganini's journal
