The red is compliments of my Xanga blog. I worked out the overall costs of the next four years while I was on there, and it is a bit staggering I have to admit. But it's nothing I cannot do. 

There is nothing that I cannot do. Though instead of doing THIS I should be working on getting my apartment squared away. Oh what joy is this? To have to pack up and throw away pretty much everything I have ever known and cared for out here in Phoenix.

This was like a new life. Now it is over with, and I am scrambling. But I function well enough in a scramble. There are days when I wish it could have worked out differently. I was so close!

But really quite far. Really much farther than I care to admit. But that is the way of the story.

Just barely finished high school.

Attempted college time after time.

Moved to Youngstown twice to work as a prep chef.

Moved to Vermont to go into Culinary school.

Back to Worcester State

To Quinsig Community College.

To here.

Now back to QCC for a year, then onto WSC.

WoW. What a world, what a life I have lived. Really sounds very simple and very boring if you avoid the details. Oh such details. Horrible details.

I don't have baggage. I have skeletons, and lots of them. My friend Sam would have turned 20 today. Should have turned 20 today. Oh the Ides of March! To be born on the day JC was killed by his closest. Rome wept. Sam died on Feb 3 2006 at the age of 17 and I wept. 

So it goes. How many dead?

Sam

Tim

Mark

Nick

Frankie

Adam

Kevin

How many more? Those are just from my past. That list doesn't include Mike who shot himself last month, nor does it include Dad, who died 2 years ago, or Nick who got killed in an auto accident, or that dude I knew who was killed in Iraq who's name escapes me. Too much death to remember the names. You have to laugh. If you don't laugh, well then you cry.

Would I rather laugh or Cry?

You Got to Cry without Weeping

Talk Without Speaking

Scream without raising your voice!

That's U2 for you. The Joshua Tree if I remember right. 

Ok, back to the apartment.

Going to be hard living with someone again. I have to build myself back up. Once I do that I can get a job at a grocer or something. I'll have to register the T100 when I get home if I can afford it, and I'll have to investigate colleges and the cost of colleges. 

Min Wage in MA is $8 per hour. So before taxes if I'm working an 8 hour shift that's $64 a day, $512 a week, about $2000 a month, and $24,000 a year. 

Fine. You can live on that. That is the goal. To get employed and start making money. 

A full time student is 12 credit hours. 

So at QCC first $132 per credit hour, which is about $1600 a semester not including books, so lets make that $2000 even if we include books. So 2 semesters per year, and lets throw in one summer semester for good measure, which lets assume is what I'll need to get back to Worcester State College. That's $6000. 

Let's assume worst case scenario and say I have to do 3 years at Worcester State, because honestly I have no idea what class's I have done, but I do know that I don't remember shit from any of them, so the best course of action money or no might be to just start fresh and do it right. 

WSC is about $250 per credit hour. 

SO that's $3000 per semester plus $400 for books, add another $100 for random fees. That's $3500 per semester. 3 years is 6 semesters. That's about $18,000. 

So we are looking at about $24,000 over the next 4 years, that's $6000 per year. This is night school on top of working 8 hours a day. 

So if I'm making about $24000 a year, let's say $20,000 because I have no idea what taxes are. That's $14,000 a year to live on. Which is about $1160 per month, which is about $300 a week. 

Some amount of that $300 a week has to go to mom, and some of it has to go into savings, or I chip in for groceries and be self sufficient with transportation, and bank the rest?

Going through all that math, motorcycles are going to have to wait, the Triton, Norton, and what ever else is going to have to wait. 

I can keep the T100 going for that.

Courage?

They all say I have it in bounds. They all say that I have so much courage. That I have fought my way through thousand of miles of a shit storm. That I fight still. 

What is this courage? I am frightened most of the time. Scared to death. I look back at the things I have seen and experienced and I wonder what the hell has it all been about?

I'm 25 years old. I don't deserve this. What did I do to deserve all of this? What did I do so horrible in the last life that I am still being punished in this one? 

What have I done to deserve so many wonderful friends. I can't stand it. Everywhere I go I make strong friends. I have friends of all ages, from 15 to 65 years old. What makes me so special? 

Is there courage in living through constant pain? Is there courage in continuing to try time after time as plan after plan fails? Is that what courage is? What other choice is there? What other option is there but to keep going.

My life feels like a snow storm. Walking in a snow storm. I tuck my chin down dig my hands into my pockets and walk against the cold cold wind slowly so as not to slip. 

What else can we do? 

My greatest fear was to grow old and die alone. The shrinks tell me that I won't ever be able to trust enough to get close to someone. I will never have a partner, a mate to grow old with. I have accepted that I have to live out my greatest fear.

My greatest dream was to become a motorcycle mechanic who was known, respected, who built specials. The go to guy if you want to ride some old classic in the modern world without trials or troubles. 

In the last few months I have watched my greatest dream get torn down around me and destroyed. It lays in ruin as I sit here in my apartment gathering together my possessions to move back home.

Is it courage to look in the face of such a loss as the loss of your dream and try to shrug it off? What stuff is this? 

I feel like utter shit. I am tired, worn out, battered and broken, and yet I continue? What choice is there but to continue? How is that courage? 

How can it be that I can feel so broken and so battered at 25?

How can it be?

I am so tired of watching my friends grow up and move beyond me. Jon is a Nuclear Design Engineer. Brent is a helicopter pilot. Kyle is almost a rocket scientist. Kyle the freshman when I was a senior. Kyle was the boy. What a good man he has turned into. What an incredible friend. Liam a freshman when Kyle was a senior, Liam now a senior himself. Another incredible friend. Watching people grow up around me. Watching them change. I feel trapped in time.

They say I did something great. I through everything into this and did it. I came out here and pursued my dream. I Did it! I failed but I tried. How many people can say they tried? They really tried. How many can say they chased the dream.

I don't want to grow old and bitter. I suppose I already am old and bitter. 

Time will tell.

Pain Again

The walls are almost bare. I have 14 pictures left. I have 9 that I plan to keep. I have 5 and a half boxes packed. I figure I'll have 6-7 when it's all said and done. What will it cost to ship them? I don't know. 

I do know I have $1380 in cash, and I have $545 coming in later today which makes $1925. On the other hand I owe the bank $1131 which will leave me with $794.

Now shipping the Triumph back to Worcester is going to cost $675 which leaves me with $119. A plane ticket home is going to cost $177 which $58 in the red. We figure about $400 to ship all my stuff home, that puts me about $458 in the red. My only fear is that the bank is going to do something funky so that I can't go so high into the red again. Which would throw a huge crowbar into the works. 

I'm supposed to get between $1000-4000 back from school. So that will pay for the money I'm in the hole, as well as the $850 I owe the apartment complex for breaking my lease. 

As to the title of this little post, my body is racked with pain again. Actually I can't remember when I wasn't in pain. 

This is the letter I got from Jon, which pretty much sums up the response I got from everybody about the end of my time here:

Jack. cant wait for your rwteurn. You have beem sorlely missed . 
Jack, You did it! you will never look back in life and say " I wish I 
had done..." You went....you have shown more courage in your life than 
I in mine. I am so proud of you. Now, get back here. we all cant 
wait!!!!!!!!!!!!! what day is your arrival?

Pain

This picture shows perfectly why I have to abandon Arizona. This was taken by a friend just before I passed out. That's all of my 135 pounds, my pants which have a 34 waits barely grip at my hips anymore, they fit snug when I bought them in July. 

No pain killers, apparently I have "Drug Seeking Behavior" maybe that's because I'm often in pain that can only be managed with pain killers? 

It's hard not to grow bitter. 

I've been dealt a cruel hand and I've spent the better part of the last 14 years playing it. 

I'm tired. 

I'm in pain. 

I currently have a horrible cough. 

I just watched my dreams go down like a plane that lost it's wings. 

Tell me how to remain upbeat, because I'm running out of ideas. 

I'm running out of ideas.

4:07AM

The Enfield went up for sale last night for $1500, which is about $1000 less than it's worth, and equally so for what I have in it. Got to love the fire sale method. But I need that money to get back East.

Going back East. Ya, that's a kick in the head, continues to kick me in the head, and I am utterly overwhelmed by the idea of how to pack up all my stuff and get back East. I hadn't anticipated this.

I remember when I left in July 08 I said I'd not come back early unless it was in a pine box. Well I'm pretty fucking close. I weigh about 138. I am in constant pain. Yes yes, I've been through all this, I know. It's just so hard to turn loose of this one.

I'm trying to remain upbeat. 

I'll be going back to family. 

Mom's giving me the master bedroom, which has a bathroom to die for. A walk in shower and a tub that someone 6'5" can actually fit into. All tile, walls, floors. The purple stained glass window. Haha, there's even a powder room. The fixtures are all Crane which was a prestigious company for many years, top notch when the house was built in the 20s, and lets face it the bedroom is bigger than my apartment, and has 4 large windows looking out on beautiful views. Walnut floors, the 3" thick arched walnut doors with full length mirrors. 

But let's not fool around, dad did Die in that room. He died on the bed I'll be sleeping in. I can take it though. I can take just about anything.

The 3 year anniversary of Sam's death was last month, his birthday is next weekend. *kick*

But I have dad's motorcycle, the Triumph T100 - which is excellent as the Volvo wagon - the car dad and I drove to Mexico and back when I was 17... that's gone now, sold away for scrap while I've been in Phoenix. Am I allowed to cry for a car?

I'll be able to see Kyle again. Boston is Much closer to Worcester than Phoenix. Paul and Chris are finishing up at WPI, two of my best friends. They both have bikes in mom's garage, I actually supplied them both with those bikes. Chris with a '76 Yamaha for free, and Paul I sold my Moto Guzzi. 

How I miss that bike, the Guzzi. But Paul is in love with it as much as I was. I still remember that day, it was a perfect day. 

I can go back to my trips to The Boulevard Diner in the wee small hours, I can go back to Coney Island. I can go back to bowling. 

Worcester the city that always forgives me, even when I can't forgive myself. 

John Deedy too, there is a missed friend. I actually found the keys to his apartment tonight in an Altoids tin. 

Balducci has been visiting since Wed. He flies onto Maine tomorrow, err, well in 2 hours we take him to the airport. In his luggage he is carrying a seat, airbox, and magneto for my motorcycles, always a good friend trying to save me some trouble!

I look over to my left at the wall and see pictures of Dad. Always brings tears to my eyes. I can't help it. How can I be expected to help it?

I have made great friends down here, Cam, Zack, Zero, and others. Cam is my best friend here. I gave him the KZ1000 I rode out here on after I'd known him for a day. Just to feel like myself again. Such a different set of cats than I'd known before. A tattoo artist, a Texan firefighter musician, a mexican gang banger. I'm also friends with farmboys, california pot heads, motocross racers, rice rocket types, and harley buffs. What variety. 

I also befriended Joe, an instructor at the school. Born in the same town. A true New Englander. Made great money building expensive Harley's. Great guy. Reminds me heavily of Steve Davis, but without a conscience. 15 years in the Army and a few gunshot wounds will do that to you. But I have the greatest esteem for the man, and he's got a cool wife and a great kid. He's been really cool to me since I've been here, I've eaten many a free meal over there, spent hours working on bikes and learning tons. 

I walk away with two good tattoo's. I walk away with my pride intact. I walk away knowing I did EVERYTHING I could, Gave everything I had, and more. I am now a walking skeleton. I am now Death warmed over. 

I've lost the plot tonight. I have to get out of here. 

Fucked

Well it's fucked. 

Today is Saturday the 7th. On Monday March 2nd I withdrew from MMI. My body was just too hammered to continue. On Wed my buddy Jon flew in from Korea (stopped here in Phoenix) to visit for a few days before returning to Maine, and the day after he arrived I came down with the flu, which is just now beginning to show signs of being over. 

I've listed the Royal Enfield on craigslist for $1500 which is just over $500 less than it's worth and about $1500 less than I have invested in it. But I NEED the money and have no way of getting it home - that would cost $650. The Triumph Has to go home, so that's $650, a plane ticket is $150. Shipping my stuff should be about $300. 

I might be able to do it without the Enfield. Time will tell. I want to be out of here by next week. 

man I feel terrible. more later.

Passing Afternoon

I am in so much pain. 

I know suicide is evil. 

It's the final solution. 

It cannot be undone. 

Do I really hate life this much?

I don't. 

Hate life.

I am six foot five inches. I weigh one hundred and forty pounds. I don't have health care. I live in a country where if you don't have it and you need it - it is harder to get. 

Can I get it?

yes.

Will they pay for the medication I need to be useful?

no.

My muscles ache. My leg muscles, my feet, my hands, my arms, my shoulders, my head, my eyes. They all ache. My insides ache. It all hurts. My feet feel like they are going numb. Muscles twitch and spasm. I cough up blood. I piss it. I have little to know energy. It's hard to move. I get dizzy when I stand up. My eyes feel like they are bleeding. I just want to lay here. 

I just want it to be over. 

Is it just the physical pain?

no.

So many friends in the ground. So much loss. So much innocence gone. So much beauty that I can't touch. So much alone. So much pain. 

My feet and legs feel like they are dying. I can feel it crawling up my legs. Like vines going up a chimney. It's almost at my knees. Piercing pain in my arms, my left knee, my right elbow, in my chest and in my ribs.

Feels like I am suffocating but I also feel like I need to puke. Movement is tight. Raising my arms above my head makes them tingle and ache even more. 

I don't want to live life as an invalid. 

I don't want to go home again with my tail between my legs. 

I can taste it. 

Success. 

I can taste freedom.

How much more can I take?

How much more?

I already feel as though I am standing in an open grave. 

I am 25.

I have been in emotional pain since I was 11.

I have been in physical pain since I was 15.

How much more is there?

How many more years?

I am so tired.

I just want to sleep.

I imagine that this is what it feels like to die. 

So how long must it take?