The End of Guild Wars…

I have not written a blog in well over two years partly due to the dysgraphia and partly due to laziness on my part. This is also why I have not been drawing much either pure and utter laziness. Well today I addressed an addiction that had to end once and for all. I finally walked away from Guild Wars after 126 months and 9,900 hours. That is 412.5 days of my life spent in a game so I lost over a year of my life to this addiction. I don’t think any drug I did from the freebasing of cocaine to the weed to the beers came even close to this amount of time. Mora Windfoot had to die once and for all and it started in World of Warcraft where I changed my Blizzard ID to just Mora I dropped the Windfoot.

I created Mora Windfoot a female ranger in September of 2006 and I created a character to role play in the game and I have been struggling for over a year and a half with this character and what to do with her. I have a multitude of reasons why I left mostly it was the now toxic community that exists in the game now that there are no longer any rules. Another part is my past kept creeping up and biting me in the ass and another was I finally hit that point where I just didn’t want to play anymore. I have made a lot of friends in the game but I guess the ones I did not get to say good-bye to will be just fine without me around.

I spent fifteen years in Narcotics Anonymous addressing my addiction issues and yeah this was one of the most powerful ones I have ever experienced in my life. When I got robbed in 2012 and was unable to get on the game I ached every day until finally 14 months later I was able to log in again. I then quickly created guilds and alliances being I was back in the swing of things. The core of addiction is obsession and compulsion and I had that with this game in spades. I did take a break this year for about two months but I came back and well things just seemed worse then before I left. It was like I never left or stopped playing bam right back into the disease of addiction.

My mother had quit smoking for sixteen years and when she started again she said it was like she never quit and that is exactly how it was for me. I just slipped back into that familiar place like a junkie shooting that junk again after a long break. I was unable to stop logging in every day even though I had a way better game to play in World of Warcraft that I play a few hours a day at the most. I do not need to develop another addiction to an online game for this last one was so destructive to my heart, mind and soul.

The core of the disease of addiction is self-centeredness and a hole that we are trying to fill so we use the substance to fill that hole. Guild Wars was my substance for over a decade and now I can clearly see that it was far worse then any drug I have ever done in my life. Yes I have a lot of great memories in the game and I miss a lot of the people that left the game during my exodus for that fourteen months but I made new friends and had so many amazing adventures but then I got tied up with a bad person and she sucked the life out of me and the game. After 16 months of debating should I leave or stay or just stick around until I hit 10,000 hours I said no I need to leave the game now or I never will. Abstinence is the only way to recover from any addiction so that is what I shall do. I will never log in again, never hear the music never see the people or the sites. Yeah I am gonna have to kick this like any other drug but I am strong enough to do this. I have been able to stop other addictions in my past so I will use the same method that I did then on this.

I guess the bottom line here is I was sick and tired of being sick and tired so change no longer seemed like an idea but it had to become a concrete reality. So I am now going to say good-bye to Mora Windfoot. It was a great decade plus but do me a favor and just fucking die already. I once loved you but now I loath you with a seething passion for you took over my life like no other thing ever has. I am fully aware that I allowed this to happen so in the end it is 100% my fault but hey shit happens sometimes that is just beyond our control and this was one of those cases. The funny part is I hated the game when I first got it but then I feel in love with it and it was my baby. I guess all good things must come to an end and it is never pretty when it does. So see ya Guild Wars it was nice but it is now time for me to move on and distance myself from you like you have a disease that I can catch that will again destroy my life. Ah addiction at its best…

Quad Shot Americana With Room For Rage 1999

Quad shot Americana with room for rage..

Take your fucking filth

Take your fucking greed

Take your fucking politicians

Take your fucking corruption

Take your fucking lies

Take it all Americana and stuff it up my ass

And blow my brains out with a sneer

The media deceit

Look good

Like a Hilfiger model

Pump up at the gym

Waste my life to look like a rock

So no one will want me anyway

Just a waste of muscle mass

To change the outside glass

And forget about the dirt inside

The loneliness

The pain

The anger

The despair

But I have to look like a model

The TV tells me so

The magazines tell me so

Calvin Klein tells me so

Simulated life of drama

Yeah, that’s me Americana

Open up wide

And eat the lies

Close myself

Be someone else

Let the world tell me who to be

How to act

Who to fuck

Simulated life of drama

Yeah, that’s me Americana

Watch the tube

Dream about the life they live

Fantasize about fucking the lead character

Masturbate to the fallacy

Cum to the media

Cum to the model

Cum to Cindy fucking Crawford

The lie is mine to buy

The lie is there’s to sell

I’m a product

I’m a sell out

Who gives a fuck

I think I’m happy

I tell myself I’m happy

Yet the despair eats me all night long

Gnawing like a rat

Until I’m gone

Simulated life of drama

Yeah, that’s me Americana

Read GQ

Read Playboy

Jack off to Hustler and hide it away

Fabricate a life

Tell everyone how great I’m not

Lost the real me in the fantasy

Like a storybook

Or a shitty sitcom

I’m stuck in a re-run

And no one gives a fuck

Delude the truth daily

Tell it’s all bullshit

Living the lie is easier

Then the living truth

Go on Springer

Get a web site

Sit in a chat

Tell it all to who ever cares

Simulated life of drama

Yeah that’s me Americana

Take over a company

Fire them all

Kill a town

Blow up a school

Club a baby seal

Burn Paris to the ground

Shoot a cop

Rape a nun

Simulated life of drama

Yeah, that’s me Americana

Look for a leader

Find a loser

Look for a truth

Find a distortion

Look for a lover

Find a slut

Look for love

Find hate

Look for life

Find death

Look for God

Find nothing

Look for honesty

Find greed

Look for hell

I’m already there

Simulated life of drama

Yeah, that’s me fucking Americana.

On The Bus 2001

Sitting on the bus

Took it from here to there

Up and down

Watched the people shuffle on

Watched them waltz off

Ran up the Fax

And back down again

Sat in the shade

Melted in the sun

Sitting on the bus

Going into the hood

Cruising through the poverty

Looking at the poor

Gawking at the bleakness of the D

From my seat

I can see it all

The rich

The poor

The lost

The found

And the forgotten

We are the low life’s

The scum

The one’s society

Left behind

Just moving along

As one

Sitting on the bus

Stream through the city

Seeing the greed

And corruption

From my Plexiglas view

Jump off there

Hop on here

Zip-zoom, stop, go

All the while

Sitting on the bus

Watching Denver flow

And crawl past my eyes

As I sit on the bus one more time

Halloween Poem Unknown Date

The sky is opaque

The moon dark

The stars gone

The cool Autumn breeze chills the bones

Nightmares and dreamscapes fill the air

Visions of pumpkin pie fill the eyes

The crisp smell of death wets the appetite

The children howl with glee

Chants of Sleepy Hollow echo about

The zombies wave in the trees

The ghosts pounce about

Black cats everywhere

The witches and warlocks mingle around

The secret brews of generations cooking

The leaves scatter the streets

The wind rips them away

Tricks and treats

Ghosts and goblins

Spooks and frights

All on this brisk

Autumn day…..

Junk June 1996




Everyday I fill my soul

With junk

Everyone has their fix

Just a mob of addicts

Wondering around like a herd

In a demoniac search of a leader

All those lost souls

Encompassing the Earth

All in search of a direction

A meaning of life

Some people see it

Some never do

Rarely is it ever truly caught

How it eludes me

Blinds me with lies

Pumps me up with fallacy

No way to see

Until it’s to late

No excuses

No remorse

Just pain



Just keep looking

Filling with more junk

Need the junk to live

Numbs my aching soul

All I look for

Is so hard to get

Label me?

Label you?

Why do I pre judge

Am I not human?

Am I not flesh & blood

Why do you shun me so?

The pain rips into me

Need the junk to kill the pain



It gouges my mind


And soul

The pain, will it ever end?

When I find it for sure

Being the junk doesn’t work anymore

Where is it?

Where is it?

Why can’t I have it?

Where is love

Just the junk

To kill the hurt

Just the junk

To murder my soul

Just the junk

Nothing more

Written in 1999 After Sex With Some Random Chick.

Sometimes I feel like my face is falling off

I mean not in the physical sense

But in the surrealistic sense of the mind

I think it would be cool if it did though

I’m sitting at Starbucks on 16th. and Curtis

In Downtown Denver

I’m surrounded by yuppie’s and families

It’s the Sunday after church crowd

I decide to talk to the people on my right

A woman and a small girl

I get this tickle in my nose

All of a sudden I sneeze


My nose flies off


I’m spouting blood everywhere

The people look at me in absolute horror

I shake my head

I want to share the terror

I look at the lady and say,

I’m sorry, really I am”

My nose by the way lands in the girls coffee

I fish it out and eat it

I need the calcium you know

That would be cool

Untitled 6.14.98

I skidded across the surface of a star yesterday

It was kind of cool ya’ know

The surface was hot

The light blinding

The thing is, I felt safe

At ease

There was no fear in my heart

As I sat upon this star

I recognized something

Deep inside myself

The star was just my soul

Trying to breathe

Bliss 1999


What is Bliss??

Is it that long awaited kiss??

Is it that morning dew on the grass

The ray’s of sun breaking through the glass

The sound of rain aginst a window

Snow fluttering downward to the Earth

The sound it makes

The crunch of boots apon it

What is bliss??

I do not really know what bliss is

Bliss is love

Bliss is hate

Bliss is whatever makes us smile

Just one more time

Somedays bliss is food

Somedays bliss is life

Somedays bliss is death

Somedays bliss is sleep

One day bliss was dope

This day bliss is saying nope

Bliss, bliss, bliss

What could it be?

Does it have a name

Is it a person, place or thing?

Is it just God in guise?

Or is it just me in reprise?

Someone tells me that they miss

Some good old bliss

Hypocrisy of Freedom 1999-2001

Freedom to bang

Freedom to use a racial slang

Freedom to be

Freedom to not see

Freedom to vote

Freedom to complain

Freedom to drink

Freedom to be an alchoolic

Freedom of speech

Freedom to be arrested for what you say

Freedom to express

Freedom to be cencered

Freedom to be president

Freedom to be homeless

Freedom to hurt

Freedom to love

Freedom to move

Freedom to stay

Freedom to cry

Freedom to die

Freedom to be rich

Freedom to be a C.I.A. snich

Freedom to fame

Freedom to be lame

Freedom to dream

Freedom to get lost in C.R.E.A.M. (Wu-Tang Clan 1993)

Freedom to be free

Freedom can’t you see?

Freedom I don’t think so

Stanza Two

Freedom to be gay

Freedom to smoke a jay

Freedom to be tied to a post

Freedom to get lit and roast

Freedom to get beat to death

Freedom to take your last breath

Freedom to be who you care

Freedom if you dare

Freedom to die for a belief

Freedom to not see any relief

Freedom to be from Casper

Freedom to be a ruthless bastard

Freedom to read the headline—

“Gay student dies five days after beating”

Freedom to laugh at our finger pointing

Freedom to pray for peace

Freedom to give up in peace

Freedom to be remembered

Freedom to be Matthew Sheppard

Stanza Three

Freedom to practice genocide

Freedom to run and hide

Freedom to let Kosavo be

Freedom to be a war torn refugee

Freedom to be an outcast

Freedom to kill a school in a balst

Freedom to drop a bomb

Freedom to curse the nation of Islam

Freedom to evade the death sentence

Freedom to kill faggots and pay no penence

Freedom to be in a scandel

Freedom to jiggle your love handle

Freedom to write a book

Freedom to exist with a look

Freedom to be Monica Lewinski

Freedom to be Linda Tripp the Butt—in—ski

Freedom to be Chelse

Freedom to never forget Helsinki

Freedom to relive Viet—nam

Freedom to scream at Uncle Sam

Freedom to be a war vet

Freedom to remember Tibet

Freedom to keep thinking

Freedom to continue sinking

Freedom to be American

Freedom to be African

Freedom to be Malcom X

Freedom to be Generation X

Freedom to be 6.26.71

Freedom to kill for fun

Freedom to be Martin Luther King Jr.

Freedom to be Cal Ripkin Sr.

Freedom to be killed like John F. Kennedy

Freedom to be killed by Ted Kennedy

Freedom to have dharma

Freedom to hate karma

Freedom to wither away and die

Freedom to feel life’s a lie

Freedom to block your dad’s fist

Freedom to slam your dad’s casket

Freedom to ask why

Freedom to never know why….

Dharma written on the back of a Jack Kerouac Novel

Dharma, dharma what—is—dharma? Is—it the thought—of—God?? Is it actually—God—itself? The quest—for dharma is where I live—to find spiritual guidence—somehow, someway; to be—with God—as—one—one—one; not alone any more with—God—to look up and feel it’s power—love—caring; this is dharma—not money—people—things—it’s inner peace—joy—balance—purpose—vision—sernity—this is the dharma I want—not the religious dharma—the real spiritual dharma—the power of the pacific—the magestic beauty of a mountian—the sun—rain—sky—stars—all in unity with the dharma of God; my spirit in—with the spirit of God—so—I—can—feel the same—in tune with nature and of God it’s self—dharma—is my quest—God is my teacher—I am my temple…