William Borroughs
While I am living in the garage office history is made 
and the world takes a spin....my depression goes 
into depression.  I cry all day 911, then seems that
I cry every day for weeks.  He doc thanks for the
little white bars...one pill makes you smaller...420.

Pain and confusion mounts on my pain and con-
confusion. The Post in my Post Traumatic Stress
Syndrome become Present Traumatic stress Syn.

"Experience is what you get when 
you don't get what you want."

Pain alternates with the numbness.  Fear takes over my mind and forms of paranoia seep into my
mind.  Ford lays off thousands, ENRON and the largest bankruptcy in the world and it goes all the
way to the Attorney General and the President.  FBI and CIA is looking closer at the genetic
sequencing of the anthrax that killed five Americans, and the president faints choking on a pretzel
during a football game on TV.  Israeli tanks have entered a neighborhood of the West Bank town
of Nablus, a day after they took over the nearby city of Tulkarm, and Arafat said he is ready to die
a Martyr.  Russia and the US and in heated talks again about the "N" words.  Sabers rattle in
Columbia South America, Argentina is in decay as other Latin American countries begin to boil.

In a stoic bewildering daze I brief the real news that comes to me via Internet, TV and papers I
pick up...I dream of Guatemala and the waters of the Caribbean.  I miss Desiree and am so
afraid that she will get married, before I get to be her father one more time.  Last time I talked to
my little girl Ashley, who's fifth birthday is in two days and I am not going to be able to be with
her, says, "Dad, you better hurry and see me.  I'm all grown up." She turns and asks Tammy,
"Mommy, can Dad come over and you won't yell at him."  I cry, but try to stay a man and talk to
my daughter's on the phone.  Weeks go by and I can not call them because I am afraid that
Tammy will trace my calls and have me arrested.  I ask her if I can send some antibiotics for
the kids and she says she will just throw them out.  I still think a lot about mad cow disease.
Swine flu over the cuckoo's nest...another dark article I have written on too long now, but this
study of DIS-EASE seems so near.  My little brother was 33 when he succumbed there in that
sick town of Cleburne, Texas.  Something about a queer general being who the town is named
after...Hollywood writer told me that, and I believe him.

My psyche scrutinize events of the world and my life over and over and over in my mind.  Mental
slippage.  I feel blank and unable to focus or concentrate and like I am floating out in space.  Self-
pity and guilt that I am not being a father.  I lose my self-esteem and when I lose any hope of my
dreams and work coming true I shudder.  Self doubt begins to kill me.  I can not get up off the
couch.  I can not stop working at my computer.  I feel needy, depleted and overwhelmed and at
times unable to cope of function.  Thanks for the little white bars doctor...nice when the anxiety
and the shaking is gone.  Takes a hour to wake up and feel good, then I read the news and feel
bad again.  I don't have any money.  I have to get my daughter something for her birthday.  I try
and pray.

An old man was on his death bed. He wanted badly to take all his money with him. He called his priest,
his doctor and his accountant to his bedside. "Here's $30,000 cash to be held by each of you. I trust you to
put this in my coffin when I die so I can take all my money with me." At the funeral, each man put an en-
velope in the coffin. Riding away in a limousine, the priest suddenly broke into tears and confessed that
he had only put $20,000 into the envelope because he needed $10,000 for a new baptistery. "Well, since
we're confiding in each other," said the doctor, "I only put $10,000 in the envelope because we needed a
new machine at the hospital which cost $20,000." The accountant was aghast. "I'm ashamed of both of you,"
he exclaimed. "I want it known that when I put my envelope in that coffin, it held my personal check for
the full $30,000."


It is January 24, 2002 and the birthday of my little 
girl Ashley Delsenia Standley, who turns five years 
old today.  I will not get to be with her on this special 
day and the past few days I have fallen back into my 
depression.  Ashley's middle name was my Mother's
name.  Thought some about my Grandmother the 
past few days.  Last night I kept dreaming about 
Tammy being pregnant and that beautiful day we 
went to the hospital in Austin, Texas and my little 
Princess Ashley was born.
I feel I will soon be in Cleburne and now in my own lost insanity I am not sure what I will
do.  Sometimes I think that I will call a press conference at my Mother's grave.  Invite some
of the Press that has had interest in my story and have the D.A. and his Good ole boys
come on down and pick me up there.  I feel stoic and bewildered.  I have to get to Texas
and get our things out of storage.  Tammy says if I don't have them back to her soon she is
going to find more ways to ruin me.  Doubt flows over me and my self-esteem is below the
trash that lies in the gutter.  I feel depleted and overwhelmed and unable to cope or function
at times.  The depression, grief and anxiety keeps me feeling bewildered and confused.

I feel like withdrawing.  "What's the use?"  I sometimes feel immobile.  The myriad of feelings
come and go in waves.  My psyche seems to be a separate self from me now.  I do not feel
that I have any control of my life or my actions.  I feel like if I make a decision it will surly
be wrong and will lead me to deeper darkness inside.  With my medication I do not feel the
 trembling, shortness of breath, and the anxiety.  I have no thoughts of intimacy.  Confusion
reigns.  Without my children there is a hole in my life.  Am I as worthless as Tammy says I am.
Are my children better off without me?

India (AP) - India successfully tested a new version of its most powerful nuclear-capable
missile Friday, and rival Pakistan warned the test could further  destabilize the tense region.

The missile, a short-range version of the Agni-I, soared into the sky over the Bay of
Bengal from Wheeler's Island off India's east coast, officials said.  ``Agni is an ongoing
project. We are taking many more steps for the nation's security and protection. This is one
of them,'' Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee said in a broadcast message.

The test came amid simmering tensions between the nuclear-armed neighbors, with soldiers,
ballistic missiles and tanks facing each other across the border in India and Pakistan's
biggest military standoff in decades.

I pick up the newspaper, already cried just seeing a woman that is going to have two sets
of identical twins born and upset that the birthday present that I thought had made it to
my little girl via Federal Express did not get there.  So what can happen worse than that.  Go
ahead and shoot the missiles Mad Men.  Maybe I would be safe in a Texas jail while all the
madness goes on in the world around me.  Can not seem to even get a birthday present to
my little girl, or watch her blow out her birthday candles just because some Cleburne gangsters
that stole from me, want me to give them money...or, they will even ruin and persecute me
more than they already have.  Go figure????

I wish that I was more able to experience anger.  I have turned the anger inside.  I am such a
coward and the men in Cleburne and Missoula have me so beaten down and depressed that
I am frozen in my own rage.  I am immobile and becoming detached from the world and my
friends.  I feel that I am in a psychological paralysis.  Fear rules my life.  Self doubt keeps me
frozen.  No money makes me less than human and worthless to anybody.  I am beginning to
feel desertion.  I do not feel suicidal, but I do feel like it would not bother me to just not wake
up in the morning.  I am not afraid to die anymore...does that mean maybe I am getting better?

My future is no longer guided by my daydreams and wishes, but by my fears and
doubts.  I feel now I am mentally ill and off-balance...I think I am going crazy.  I can
not think straight.  What is the measure of this self-loathing and where is the
detestation of the social hypocrisy and injustice in my life?  My personal despair and
political propagan-dizing and now I write of my life as a satiric comedy, and a sad

Or, is it just a blasphemous howl that resounds in this Mad Max movie that is my life...
Am I to be sentenced to unreality and tortured by the paranoia and mental illness till I
die?  What might be my antidote to the self-destruction that the persecution has now
led me to?

I take a bus Gus...I have got to get out of this stupor and play with the girls.  Have some free wine
and fake it till I make it...touch the softness that is the spark of passion...play where the pretty
people play.  Dream that I am Hunter Thompson and can write and get drunk and have fun...

"It's Passion that holds us to the task."
- Larry Harvey

Ashley Scott & Benford Standley
At night and through the StudioClub.com I was 
able go out and socialize and see old friends.

My ole pal Ci, who has worked close with the Who 
is always a blast to find at a honkey tonk when I am 
out...for sure we remember the times at the table in
the Rainbow with Skunk Baxter from the Doobie
Brothers...the girls and the fun in the kitchen restroom.
My feelings of anxiety point to approaching insanity.
My memory failures or distortions are signs of mental breakdown.
My difficulties in concentration indicate mental disorder.
My irritability signals mental disturbance.
If these symptoms do not lead to psychosis, my insomnia and then can't wake
wake up in the mornings will.

In the movie, A GREAT MIND  Russell Crowe plays Nash, a brilliant mathematician who came
up with the game theory of economics and won the Nobel Prize, decades later, in 1994. At age
31, he develops schizophrenia and suffers a mental breakdown.

Because of his hallucinations and bizarre behavior, Nash is eventually placed on anti-psychotic drugs.
But in the film, he stops taking the drugs after finding that they dull his senses, emotions and sex drive.
Instead, he gets a handle on the disease through sheer force of will.

In the film, Nash relies on anti-psychotic drugs during the worst periods of his illness, and his illness
flares up when he is not taking them, then seems to improve.

God, I can not seem to get my place to a place where I can make any money.  With the flashes of
memory failures and my difficulties in concentration I feel that my psychosis is keeping me from
making simple steps to get my hands on any money.  My self-esteem is so low I don't know how to
ask anyone for money...because of the persecution and now mental breakdown I feel myself under
I am not able to communicate with the outside world for more that five minutes at a time.  At one
time being one of the most social people I know and on a very interesting plain of associations in
Hollywood, I am now DEAD IN THE WATER...was already up the creek with out a paddle, and
had been bailing water since the time I went out on a limb in this nest I had built with all my eggs
in the one nest out on that limb it broke...Now this South bound train to the cleaners is
so fast it might kill me to jump off...

From my Senior year of high school and through many summers and Christmas holidays and I was
off from college I worked as a brakeman and a switchman for the Santa Fe Railroad.  Even back in
1964 getting paid $3.85 a hours was like "lawyer" pay.  Of course the engineer was really bringing
home the bacon.  The job was for sure a grown-up man's job, looking back I think maybe my
stepfather hoped I would have my foot cut off helping me line up such a job, hey I did it and was a
damn good railroad man and could climb those cars when they were shot down a side track and
bring them to a stop before they hit other cars or went off the derailer.  Of course being a brakeman
is the guy riding and setting in the caboose when you used to wave at him going by...hey?  Where
did all the brakeman go?

Defend the Kingdom in my own VANILLA SKY
I walked the streets of LA this morning thinking I was having a heart attack.

"If I talk, you will just think I am crazy."  Tom Cruze said.

"And all anybody needs is a chance to just turn their life all around."...Penelope Cruz



Can you tell the difference between real and a dream?"  the sub conscious is a powerful thing...
I think she is the saddest girl to ever hold a martini..."

In many ways, the story is pure Twilight Zone, but Crowe's down-to-earth approach softens and
grounds it, making the characters seem more genuine, even amidst the surreal setting. Crowe's use
of music (one of the strengths of his previous efforts) - everything from the Beach Boys to Peter
Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill" -enhances the mood, allowing Vanilla Sky to develop its own identity. In
addition, the screenplay closes with a less evasive explanation of what has transpired.

Now i am writing what i feel from inside my fear and I miss love and fear that I may grow
old and never find love.  I don't have long to fall apart, I need to get over this.

"Somebody is playing a trick on you, maybe it is the board.  I don't know,
I'm just a psychologist,"  says Kurt Russell.

In one night David meets a girl of his dreams and loses her by making a small mistake.
Thrust unexpectedly onto a roller-coaster ride of romance, comedy, suspicion, love, sex
and dreams, David finds himself on a mind-bending search for his soul and discovers
the precious, ephemeral nature of true love.

For over a year I have not communicated with many of my friends.  I have dropped out of a
social world, gone into my depression and work...insanity and my own private place to fall
apart and having my first mental breakdown...suffer out the realizations that I was suffering
really...did I know that?

"Remember so it will be in the future...The sweet is never so sweet without the sour...
How do i wake up...I chose this scenario didn't I...Dave you can't trust him...you were set
up...it was the seven dwarfs, it was the board."  Someone said in my own Vanilla Sky.


So, I think I feel stronger after having what I thought several times during the day was a heart
attack...or a stroke of some kind.  I have been experience some strange physical feelings that
seem attached to my stomach...the knots, it feels like something is heavy upon my chest.  In
bed the night before my hands began to go numb and itch a strange itch that I could not scratch.
It was cold in the garage where I was sleeping being around 40 degrees outside in the streets
of Los Angeles with the tens of thousands of homeless.  After 24 hours, and I woke up one
morning still alive, I began to feel better.

WASHINGTON- The government cleared the nation's sole maker of the anthrax
vaccine to resume shipping the shots Thursday after four years of factory violations
that stalled efforts to protect the military from the bioterrorism bacteria.

I set eating another donut and reading the news.  In my mind I go back to Cleburne and think
about Harold Gilliam and I think it is time to write my Press Release.  I lay down the LA times
and pick up another donut hole and stick it in my mouth and follow with a big drink of coffee.

I have a flash of some childhood confusion.  I remember that when we moved in to live with
my Mother and Jack, I was about 8 years old.  I had been without a father for years and I was
lonely for the contact with a man, a dad, someone to teach me how to be a man.  Jack was big
and cold, but in my little confusion I wanted him to care for me, I wanted to know that I was
worth being loved by a man that was said to be my "dad."  He would leave to go to work and
be gone for a week.  When he would return I would have this excitement to see him, that maybe
now he was going to show me some love or play catch with me...he never did.

"Take a guy living on the streets, in and out of shelters, working somewhere for minimum wage,
trying his best to step up and become self-sufficient.  Then gets arrested for sleeping under a
bridge.  He does not want to be sleeping under a bridge, but everybody's got to sleep somewhere.
He's guilty because the city council, in its brilliance, has made it a crime to be homeless..."
The Street Lawyer by John Grisham

What lies behind us and 
what lies before us are 
tiny matters, compared 
to what lies within us. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Being down and in the streets had me feeling like I was walking in the shoes of some of the
characters in books of my past saddle pal, Thom Steinbeck's, who's dad was John Stenbeck.
I was living a WRATH for sure, but there were not many grapes.

I have had the concerns of homeless and runaway children as a cross to bear in my life since
back to 1970.  Walking the streets of Hollywood I see so many of what the Presidents have
called our future falling between the cracks.  I have seen Presidents come and go...while they
run for office they say what they are going to do for the children...when they become
presidents they don't do a fucking thing...

Ranks of Homeless Children on the Rise,
Study Finds
Every night, more than 1 million children in
America face the dark with no place to call home.

They are hungry, anxious and often exposed to violence.  They shuttle between shelters
and fall behind in school.  They are the vulnerable new face of American homeless
Experts say that there are more homeless children in America than at any time since the
Great Depression.  About 40% of America's homeless are now women and their children--
the fastest-growing group.

To often children on the streets are throwaways not runaways
says Benford Standley, "Violent children and violence against
children has reached epidemic proportions."  Standley, a low
budget crusader for better youth care, spews statistics and
flashes documentation such as magazine articles as swiftly as
a dealer handling playing cards.
                                                Associated Press


if you want to be sad and know some of the sadness in my
heart, on top of not being able to see my children...if you
dare to look at the dark side of the truth...click above...

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