Even with the brightest flames, there is always that little touch of blue.

[kenny]

This week's digiCam project has a few shots from a long awaited Flogging Molly show. Thanks to new friend I was put on Flogging Molly's guest list. I tried to get a few good flicks, but this is a hard task when you have a camera to protect in the midsts of a mosh pit.

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We came to a screeching halt; a thunderous metal on metal crash which would have woke me if it weren't for my head being thrust in to the windshield. What the fuck! I screamed. I looked over at Drew and he had his usual crooked tooth drunkard smile. The night had been nothing more than one drink after another, from bar to bar we traveled the back streets at high speeds, fueled by booze and every narcotic that we could get our hands on. At one point I remember smoking a sherm stick outside of some projects over in Henderson, where we got to watch some junkie rob a 7-11. Just as he was getting his skull smashed by four stick yielding boys in blue the drugs took hold. Greg was in the back seat crying, I was in the front seat laughing and drew was wiping his finger prints off of a small .22. Then there was a voice from the heavens, a woman's voice. Is God a woman, was this God talking to us? I reached over to turn off the music, maybe it was on the radio. But no, there was her voice again. Dear God I am going mad, but I decided to talk back to this voice. Hello, I exclaimed. Hoping that this was just a terrifying state of paranoia I was not expecting an answer. But there she was again and I looked towards Drew to see if he was hearing this and at that moment I knew it was God. There was a bright light and her voice was passing through it. Determined to see God I grabbed the steering wheel and started to pull myself out of the car from the passenger's side. Drew began to push me back. What the hell are you doing he exclaimed. I am trying to see God and you are shining a gun! And then it hit me, Drew was going to kill God. Watch out God, he's trying to kill you, I screamed. He's out of his mind. He's fucked up, we're all fucked up, don't hold it against us. And then I heard her voice again, this time it was clearer, but there was something wrong with it. Finally able to make out what she was saying, I sat back down in my seat. The drugs took a back seat and a moment of clarity shined through - we were at a drive through. Bits and pieces of this dreadful night, all of which equally as pathetic flashed by me. Finally returning to reality I put my hands towards the top right of my head, near my hair line to stop the bleeding. My fingers slipped right under my warm bleeding flesh. The act of feeling my own skull right after this abrupt awakening was almost enough to make me puke. I knew I had to get stitches, and I knew we had to get out of here. I looked back over at Drew and he must of thought the same thing. He took his keys out of the ignition, went back to the trunk and returned with a screwdriver. He jimmied the steering column off, pulled a bunch of wires free and put his gun in his waist belt. Let's go, he said. I will call this fucker in stolen tomorrow.

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Life is odd, so many looking for the answers which they never find. Show me one person that has found "the" answer in all of history, and I will show you someone lying through their teeth. People can't accept the fact that there are no answers, instead they turn to vices. Religions, gatherings, drugs, alcohol, sex, all of which are what we feed our body and mind in the hopes that something, anything will be made clear. Then we beat ourselves up when we find our hands empty. We put too much time in to work, forgetting ourselves, our families, our friends. We look for satisfaction from work. What the hell is that? Work is a means, that's all. Look for satisfaction with those who love you, or donate your time, but don't look for it within your work, you'll just be robbing yourself. In my opinion the trick is living without an answer, the rest just comes naturally. But then again, what do I know? I am on anti-psychotics and I have only had one real conversation with an actual human in three weeks. Damn these lonely hours with only me, myself and I.