I am not an island

Long hours

2009-12-30T05:42:52Z

Sometimes the wind tells me stories about lonely hours,
cutting to the bone with that emptiness that only comes with the cold.

soucyland @ 2009-06-10T00:09:00

2009-06-10T04:11:20Z

Isolation is a buried treasure

2008-09-02T19:48:55Z

I can now see the barren landscape of my future. The once lush forests of my youth have become the deserts of my waning years. I can now see the towering mountain that will be home to my new solitude. I can hide, lick my wounds, and disappear.

Why am I all of a sudden a follower?

2007-03-12T08:11:27Z

so, Tim... this is a good idea, why?

2007-03-10T23:17:32Z

Crush this person!
Get your own ThisCrush.com CrushTag!

soucyland @ 2007-01-31T05:34:00

2007-01-31T10:34:30Z

soucyland @ 2007-01-06T16:23:00

2007-01-06T20:23:11Z

Her habits are easy to map. The day seems to be filled with a sort of malaise that brings her from one location to another. Her floating lifestyle makes it that much easier for me to forget she's anything but a target. I can see her form through the gossamer curtains of her bedroom window. She is pacing with a phone to her ear. The conversation has her upset. Moving with aimless passion she flails her arm as if it to illustrate to the person on the other end of the phone. This shows me what I do not want to see. She is human. It shows in her protestations. I can see it in her silhouette. My pistol feels cold and mechanical in my hand now. She deserves to die in person. She deserves the blade. To look into my eyes and to feel her life ebb away. I'll wait until she goes to sleep.

The Rain Is Just the Angels Weeping

2007-01-06T08:22:18Z

In my right hand there is a pistol. A marvel of art and function. It is curved like a lover's body snuggly resting against me. It is the tool of my trade. I am a killer. Most people don't understand the nuance of being a killer. They want it to be about a lack of morality or a lack of soul. They want it to be the overcoming your natural impulses and following through with acts and deeds that are unjustifiable. But it is a skill. Just like any skill. It requires hard work to maintain your edge. There are always up and coming hotshots who want to take you down. But in this business, there is no walking away, and there's no turning it down. Tonight I am following a young woman who saw the wrong thing. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't even know what this thing was. Her life is forfeit because she was a few minutes late or early, because she turned left instead of right, because she took a cab or chose to walk. For whatever reason, this is her last night. And I am the last thing she will ever see.

*This is a work of fiction, please do not be afraid that I am hunting you down. I am not. Even if it seems like I am. I'm not. Even if I follow you around. I am not going to hurt you, or anyone else.

And now... a rant

2006-12-09T09:40:46Z

Have you noticed that there aren't any worms? Have you? When I was a kid, after it rained the sidewalks would be littered with worms that had been flooded out of their homes by the rain. Is it because my head is too far away from the ground? Is it because there are less worms then there were when I was a kid? Is it possible that I have outgrown worms? What about snails? My daughter caught a snail the other day. She was very excited. She had it in a little jar and desperately wanted me to see it. When we got to the jar, the snail was gone. I hadn't see a real live snail in ages. I used to collect them. I kept them in a shoe box. I heard that if you held a sea shell to your ear you'd hear the ocean. Snails looked like sea shells... so for a good deal of my childhood I suspected the ocean sounded a little gooey. But now that I am an adult, no snails. No worms! Should I blame global warming? That seems trendy. Should I blame encroahing on snail and worm habitat? Or should I just surrender to the fact that I have no time for worms. No time for snail catching. That time has past. Some things slip through your fingers before you realize that you were supposed to hold on to them. Worms and snails are probably the least of these things.

A cigarette buys you peace

2006-11-16T08:25:29Z

So they pointed the way with a golden finger
I won't bother to say which
and they told me that if I did what they said
then I would strike it rich
so there were times to be bent over
and times to be on your knees
and no matter how dirty you felt
you didn't mind taking in the fees
but in the end, no pun intended
there was a shallow sense of pain
the sort of secret that's secretly kept
between the jailors and the insane
because it doesn't matter one damn bit
which side of the bars you're on
the place as whole keeps you in
and will keep you there till your gone

These are movie quotes.... with one small change

2006-11-11T09:56:19Z

I have always depended on the kindness of Chris Soucy.
You had me at 'Chris Soucy'.
Chris Soucy! Why did it have to be Chris Soucy?
If you build it, Chris Soucy will come.
First rule of Chris Soucy Club is - you do not talk about Chris Soucy Club.
You're gonna need a bigger Chris Soucy.
Ray, if someone asks if you are a Chris Soucy, you say, 'yes!'
If I was a Chris Soucy, a perfect Chris Soucy, how would you know it was really me?
My mama always said life was like a box of Chris Soucy.
Oh, no, it wasn't the airplanes. It was Chris Soucy killed the beast.
Why don't you come up sometime and see Chris Soucy?
I have a head for business and a Chris Soucy for sin.
Chris Soucy, for lack of a better word, is good.
Get your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty Chris Soucy.

to fallen friends

2006-11-11T09:33:05Z

I am here. You could not be. And for that, I feel great sorrow. I have much. You have nothing. And for that, I feel great gratitude. I did not know that one day I would stop envying you. But I have. And sometimes I feel the guilt of it. You are not here. And today is a day to notice. We were boys. We were men. We were soldiers. We were playing army. We did not know there was so much to lose. We did not know there was so much to gain. You are not here. And sometimes I forget that you are not here. I am sorry for that. For a long time there wasn't a day that I did not take note of it. But little by little, I learned that it does you no service to neglect my life. I learned that I have an obligation to you. I owe you. Because it could have been you here. Sometimes I fear it should have been. But that is not what happened. I will try to be worth your sacrifice. I will try to be worth your life. I have not forgotten you. Nor will I ever forget you.

Veterans' Day, 2006

these hands are stained

2006-11-08T09:56:24Z

i long for the cure.

this life is too much for me.

Colin Hays lyrics

2006-09-15T21:58:31Z

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
I'll stand on the bow, feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down down down, on me

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in
But don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

When I awoke today, suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams, I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path, and up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my old footsteps, once again
And you say, just be here now
Forget about the past, your mask is wearing thin
Let me throw one more dice
I know that I can win
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I’ll keep checking the horizon
And I'll check my machine, there's sure to be that call
It's gonna happen soon, soon, soon
It's just that times are lean

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart, let the light shine in
Don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

is that a lightning bolt in my hand?

2006-09-14T11:00:49Z

I am a god,
this is news to me,
the world does bend to my will,
and I am the darkness that you see.
No peace may endure,
no innocents will be spared,
no comfort will last,
only this pain will be shared.
And why am I so cruel?
A lesson learned from deities of old,
ignore the masses, be blind to hate,
and always show that love is merciless and cold.

Here we go again

2006-09-02T08:36:25Z

I sense the storm of old fears brewing on the horizon. My back had been turned long enough for anyone to take aim with silver knives, but now I stand facing the coming pain ready for the piercing blow. I will almost be relieved when all my fears are realized. There is little hope that I will survive, and somehow, this too is relieving. There is comfort in old fears, a familiar coat to wrap around my cold bones. I no longer carry the dread that accompanies these dark hours. I only want the happiness I could not provide to be blessed upon those I love, and for whatever meager happiness I did provide to outlast any sadness I may have caused. I have never been good at this game, and I don't want to play anymore.

A tearful farewell

2006-08-26T07:14:53Z

To all of you who have left,
before I was ready to say good bye,
I know I may have missed my chance,
but it's better for me this way.
I will pretend you are still here,
that I simply haven't seen you in a while,
that if I could pick up the phone
and see you in mere moments.
Maybe I didn't call while you were available,
maybe I let you believe you weren't important,
maybe I tried to distance you before you left,
maybe I wasn't the best friend around,
but for all my mysterious behavior,
please remember I loved you truly,
and I feel your absence keenly,
and I would always choose your company.

soucyland @ 2006-07-28T07:57:00

2006-07-28T13:09:58Z

the stranger steals on silent feet across my bedroom floor
without obstruction he made his way through window and past door
his shining blade cuts through my dreams and threatens my very life
how I hate the dawn with it's shining light and it's dreaded sunbeam knife

A letter to mortals who unfortunately love

2006-07-26T08:39:48Z

I love. This is something I do. I love with terrible fury. Those who can withstand it, prosper; those who cannot, fall. Sadly, it is thankless to love me, but remarkable. Those who have bled for me, cried for me, pulled themselves apart to offer me what I would only discard with indifference, they hold the keys to a world where pain is not an obstacle. Those who have clawed me, bitten past my skin, torn my soul asunder only to find me refusing to lick my wounds, they can venture forth without knowing remorse. I am the process by which hearts become stone. Harden your flesh to love me, deplete your hope, smother your dreams, come to me with only the animal left. One of us will die in the battle, but neither of us will survive. I am the last angel in the proud army of the morning star, I smell the trail of smoke from heaven still smoldering where my wings have burned away. I have no delusion of climbing back to some ethereal plane. If you dare, you can stand against me, you will be the hero, you will be the righteous, but you will not win. So come young heroes, come strong lovers, undo the eternal damnation, save me, save the world, save whatever you think is beyond saving. And prepare for true fear.

soucyland @ 2006-07-17T12:21:00

2006-07-17T17:21:33Z

http://kevan.org/johari?name=soucyland

Alas, the immovable object

2006-06-27T04:48:47Z

Greetings friends and strangers, it is I, the one and mercifully only, Chris Soucy. Today's entry is an acknowledgment of the blaringly loud wake up call that has been ringing for years now without let or hindrance. for those of you who may not know this, here we go: I am no longer an employee of the City of Savannah. That's right, I have taken the ridiculously large step of letting go of ties with an organization that has become more of a burden than a help in my life. The primary reason for this must be that I have reached the apex of my time with this establishment. I have gone as far as I could go with them. And secondarily, I am too ill to carry on there. There were hidden, and not so hidden, stresses of that office that contributed, or at least did not help, to a health problem that may be too much for me to attempt to overcome. Not to be vague, I am sick. And I will be lucky to survive. But, hey, I've always been lucky.

SO... this is me. New and improved. Without the city leash curbing my attitudes. I am still the man I always was, but I am more accessible than I have been. Drop a line if you have any questions, or if you just want to say hi. I'll keep you posted.

a love letter in black and blue

2006-05-22T01:05:37Z

What can I say? Something is finished. Done. It has passed from present to past tense. There is a lingering sadness. One I can embrace. I am an expert at goodbye. I have had to say it one way or another all my life. I had always prefered just disappearing. This is a suitable farewell. One day someone notices that there is an empty space in their heart. And it's me. Without warning there is no time for dread. The pain is quick to pass. And what is left? Fond memories? Hopefully. Bitter scorn? Possibly. I wept last night. A cleansing, deep weeping that flows freely from the eyes without prompt or obstacle. I watched a play about a man whose life was a tragedy of medical and social anomalies. We cannot see the human in each of us. We cannot sense it's presence. That we need to be reminded horifies me. That cruelty is the native language of the human animal abhors me. It also stirs me. It swells in my heart and makes me hungry to be brutal. The rage clenches my fists into iron hammers that can dismantle the strongest fortress. How I crave flesh to receive this savagery. If only the mindless masses new the beast that claws at the walls of this cage. I would choke you to near death so you could feel the overwhelming power of nature. The need. The desperate need to breathe. How I would control it. Your very life in my hands. Was it a mistake to trust me? Yes. Will you regret the choice? No. I promise you passion unknowable by the timid and the frail. Who would withstand such tortures as love notes? Who would accept them? I can hear you breathing. Trembling in the warm glow of my words.

EMAIL CHANGE

2006-05-18T05:48:20Z

You can now email me at soucyman@comcast.net. Thank you very much.

soucyland @ 2006-05-05T16:36:00

2006-05-05T20:46:33Z

A kiss. It's a simple, small action. A momentary connection that defies description. You can try. You can say it was a melting of two souls. Or you can say it was wet, warm, potent... Or you can simply say wow. But words don't do do it justice. And maybe that's because it is what we do when the words aren't there. When we can't express in any other way the affection, the joy, the love, the trust, the need, the want... we kiss. I'm not suggesting that there are no bad kisses, no kisses for the wrong reason... or at the wrong time... or with the wrong person... Lord knows those things happen. Often. But as a gesture, a kiss is hard to beat, and easy to miss.

soucyland @ 2006-05-04T16:18:00

2006-05-04T20:49:49Z

There once was a man, well, better to say he was a boy - There once was a boy, who thought he was a man, who went off to face the world with open arms. The world met him with a knife in each hand and stabbed him in the back as they embraced. Silly, silly boy. But this did not kill the boy, oh no, only his dreams. The boy, with a bitter tint to his heart decided to resurrect his dead dreams. He sought out the thrills that made him feel alive. Passionless encounters with dark and hungry souls expanded his physical vocabulary and made pleasure of pains others dared not endure. But his dreams lay placid on the floor of his consciousness. Food and drink aplenty, enough to drown the oppressor within him, enough to choke the part of him that kept his spirit inprisoned. This twisted his form, broke his shape, but did not stir his dreams. Finally, his ocean of hope had dried to a desert of indifference and he sat beneath the scorching sun, burning with his own self hatred. Occassionally, he would see in the distance a miracle of lush growth. Like his dreams waving from a distance. He'd stagger toward them only to fall on his face. "A mirage" He would whisper to himself. But it was there - he chose to believe it wasn't. He chose to let it be dead to him. This is the sad tale of our boy, within arm's reach of everything he'd ever wanted, he did not dare believe he could have it. And so, he never did.

And he lived happily ever after.
The End