Life in a perfect world

Lost isn't Lost

2010-01-09T22:30:30Z

And found isn't found. Something in between the bounds. We're not looking for anything. Hoping to come across what we didn't know we sought. It's hard to live a life with eyes so wide that every piece of light is piercing. Every butterfly is swirling. Colours that dizzy our senses and new to a baby's eyes are coming at us from every direction. No clue. Or clues, to know what to do, we're lost a little, but never lost and found a little, but never found. To get where we're going and feet on the ground not knowing who to look for not knowing what's up, or where we've been. We're here we can say, but what's here is just not there, it's just here and it's enough. For today. For tomorrow. Because it's home.

Last Updated 39 weeks ago

2009-02-17T05:36:42Z

My brain is defunct. I've written it before, I'll write it again; surely. I am scatterbrained. My sentences short; brief. I'm fucked. I'm in deep trouble. The girl who doesn't get mad for more than five minutes hasn't spoken to me in what...weeks? Perhaps close to two. I care for her so deeply. She's not ready to speak to me. She means everything to me. She makes sense. She's logical and analytical and beautiful and funny. But now...She's not making sense. There's something awry but I don't know just what it is...And she won't say. I'm miserable. I'm exhausted and feel frowny. I just want to hug her and squeeze her...I want that so badly. I'm aching inside. Every day that passes I come closer to disrespecting her wishes of not speaking to me and driving the five and a half hours to squeeze her...but would she accept me with open arms? Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have ever second guessed that...Now, I'm not as certain. When we're fully based on communication and manage to have none over such a period of time, it takes away. I don't want to hold a grudge, I just want to speak to her. To put this behind us and to move forward together. I want to discuss what happened, then seal it in a box and put it away. I just want to squeeze her. For a long time I wasn't sure she was real. She convinced me that she indeed was...But is she? Was it a ruse? She always was better than me, but is she? Does she even exist? Was I the only one that saw her? Does the world only exist inside my head? I hope she wasn't a dream...I need her to stay awake. I just want her back. So badly. More than anything. Please be better. I hope. So deeply.

Giving Up

2008-05-17T01:12:29Z

Giving up on you.
You make it so tempting every day you shut me out.
You used to hear me whisper you to sleep.
You used to wake to hear my dreams.

Every day, the same excuse.
Wishing hard is of no use.
You're not working.
You don't learn.
You're hard up.
Stiff and stern.

You're colder still,
Then I might have thought.
Blissfully ignorant,
A last resort.

So independent,
For nobody at all.
Trapped in the motions,
Preparing to fall.

How long would it take?
To get over me.
A day, a week, a month,
I guess, just maybe, some day, if I lose faith completely, we'll see.

Band #2

2008-02-25T07:58:09Z

I don't remember what I did, but I remembered why I did it. At some point during the first band, you had made mention that we could be whoever we wanted to be, and that, because nobody knew us, it could be freeing to be somebody else.

In the second band, I was somebody else, a selfish character. I don't remember what I did, just that I hurt people, and for that I am sorry. I used band as an attempt to acquire a new persona to better understand myself, and it worked. I did exactly what I wanted to.

Existentialism Essay #1 Nietzsche

2008-02-21T10:04:53Z

I wrote this essay for my existentialism class and thought it deserved more life. Especially since I got a 9- on 10. Impressive, right? Or is that more confusing? In any case, enjoy the essay. It was a response to the following question.

Does Nietzsche give a persuasive or compelling account for his claims that world conceptions are anthropomorphic projections, that, in the end we think mythopoetically? Explain.

When there is but one person, you can judge something for it being ‘an sich’ (in itself). One cannot include what effect others have on this individual person. One must ignore the pre-constructed notions and ideas that surround, “after-one-anothers, for-one-anothers, the relations, the constraint, the number, the law, the freedom, the ground, the purpose” (Danto, p.95) for all of these have been created by humanity as a people. If there were but one human, these concepts would be irrelevant and would not have come to pass out of a necessity for survival.

Nietzsche states, “Our cognitive apparatus is...directed not toward knowledge but rather toward mastery and possession” (Danto, p.100). However, this would be to say that there is a significant difference between mastery/possession and knowledge itself. Nietzsche would have you believe that through cognition, we cannot achieve true knowledge and are simply seeking untruths upon untruths. This is because of the impossibility to attain proper knowledge without axioms that pre-exist our understanding. Given that language was not created with a basis on any such axiom (a mindful juxtaposition if there were one), and that language was created for the communication of our species, one must agree that Nietzsche’s theories are as true as true could be within the language that it utilizes.

Language, created as a tool to obtain power through more efficient safety, hunting and gathering has always lived through tales. The myths likely began with a mother describing to her child through pictograms to stay away from sabre-toothed tigers.
If a story is told and the ending leaves us unfulfilled, questions are asked, confusion is displayed. All because we seek to be complete. There are beginnings and endings to everything that we have ever sought, everything we’ve ever understood (all through language) and so, we must understand the beginnings and conclusions alike of everything. Christianity has created answers for the beginning and ending, and hence its popularity. Nowhere but through stories with concrete answers can anyone hope to satiate the masses’ craving for understanding whilst being productive members of society.

Through the analysis of the construct of specific languages, Nietzsche attempts to show that we seek a story in everything that happens. Grammar has imprisoned us to seeking half-truths. “...we feel constrained to seek an agent...for each activity, and a subject for each verb...[we] are dominated by this view that something must be responsible for whatever goes on...” (Danto, p.106) Nothing simply ‘is’ or ‘can be’. Our minds have been enslaved to interpret the environments, analyze situations; ‘understand’ what is going on. However, our conscience is truly nothing more than electronic synapses. Our bodies are nothing greater than complex organisms containing less complex molecules, containing simple atoms. One’s perception of reality is at best that, a perception.

Nietzsche’s analysis and debasement of everything that humanity has come to is absolutely compelling, well thought-out, poorly organized, but appears to accomplish everything he has attempted to. The persuasion is dependent solely on the individual. One who holds religion close to their heart is sadly too often reading these texts at arms’ length, disagreeing with nuances within the text, or ultimately holding the value of language higher than it deserves to be. If the option were there to exist as a species without language, we would be fools to accept this, but to ignore its basis, its meaning—this would be ignorance by definition.

Bibliography
Danto, Arthur C. Nietzsche as Philosopher. Columbia UP, 1980. 94-107.

Triolet

2008-02-03T09:04:56Z

I have to get out, out, out,
Scream, scream, scream.

Escape this nightmare dream, dream, dream.

Broken wails, wails, wails,
Tough to leave this place, place, place.

Without, without, without.
How long can I be?

Years? Months? Days? Years?
I need to leave, leave, leave.

And never return, return, return.

I need my love, love, love.
I need my love, love.

I can escape with help, help, help.
For a lack of refrain, rain, rain.

It's wet when it pours, pours, pours,
Insane as it feels, feels, feels.

There is no right, wrong, right,
Or what should be, is, should be,
There is no without, with, without,
Alone as one can be, togetherness, alone.

Pouring from the blind,
Pooling from the mute,
Pulsing from the deaf,
Purely from the kind, human, kind.

Let go, let live, let life go.

Trapped, held back, trapped.
Stuck, fucked, stuck.

Come, go, come, go, come, go, come god, go god, come, go god.
Why come?

Where go, coming?

Critical agendas need addressing,
For without an address,
No delivery can be made,
And if no delivery is made,
No arrival should be had,
And if no arrival should be had,
We shan't receive what was best intended,
And if we shan't receive what was best intended,
We should be without,
And to be without, is to be lacking,
And to be lacking is to be incomplete,
And to be incomplete is not beautiful,
And we should all be beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

Engine Trouble

2008-02-03T07:16:03Z

Your awayness makes me feel that you are not near.
Your awayness strikes me with sadness, anger, fear.
I don't control your daily life.
I live my own with strife.
I don't want to contain your mystery.
I always want you to feel completely free.

I'm caught in my web of spite.
My childish ways surely bite.
Itching my arm, scratching my back.
My limited abilities beginning to crack.
Not fully arrived where I need to be.
The motor is revving, spewing up steam.

The tires are shredding,
And spinning right through,
Kicking up dust and dirt,
Of times we once knew,

Clouding my vision,
I can't see straight,
Which way is forward,
It can't be too late.

Was it a race we were in?
Should I just start moving?
Get out of my car and run?
In the direction that's suiting?

Steam in my eyes.
Cold in the air.
Burns to the touch.
Rain in my hair.

Seeking sanctuary,
Looking for shelter,
Looking for the finish line,
Seeking a victory.

Which way am I going?
Where can I go?
I'm stuck.
Revving my engine,
I haven't opened the door.

In the time of my angst,
I've spun my tires,
And thought about life,
All my desires,
But I haven't moved,
I haven't done squat,
I'm a gnat in the world,
I'm no catalyst in the plot.

Whether my car moves,
Affects nobody else,
Whether my steam clears,
Isn't their concern.

Unless I get in their way,
Which I know I can't,
I won't be a problem,
As long as I'm spinning my wheels.

Open letter to a stranger

2008-01-20T10:05:13Z

We should probably be friends...And we should probably get to it.

Well, I suppose we needn't rush. There's plenty of time for everything that needs to be. And everything that needs to be will be, so I suppose we'll be alright. But to say that we'll be alright just because everything that is supposed to be 'will be' may be seen as a cop-out. Some feeble-minded folk seem to utilize the term 'determinist' to mean that they can sit on a couch and drink beer because the time line is drawn and if something is to happen, it 'will'.

It's quite fortunate that the types of determinists who effectively become nihilistic narcissists are so self-obsessed that they forget that these terms even exist and give up quite quickly on their beliefs. They don't have a strong will when it comes to these issues because they don't understand them, nor care to. And, even if they did, they wouldn't affect very much sitting on the couch, doing nothing, and waiting for something to happen.

It's a shame that some people work so hard and spend their entire lives just to get a simple message out and so many people are absolutely indifferent to it because it doesn't seem to be directly related to their 'life'. And yet the answers to so many questions are right in front of us. So much of it makes so much sense if we just look in the right places. Will 'fate' bring you there? Maybe. Maybe not. But it's not the place of anyone but yourself to understand how the world works. It is utterly irresponsible to let the world happen to you...Unless of course that's what you believe...If that's the case, I suppose I should let 'you' be on your merry way.

Ta.

Veteran's Day

2007-11-11T22:36:25Z

http://xkcd.com/137/

Response to a Musical Devotional

2007-10-21T08:21:29Z

Musical Devotional: A gathering of people who will play music with various instruments as well as contribute words as they see/feel fit.

I felt inspired to write with all the energy around me. It was divided into three partitions.

Section 1

In all seriousness, is religious belief inspirational or forcefully lacking?
Did it take religion to bring these people together or was it less? But not 'less' per say, but different. If religion enforced a family game night, would it be one worth following?
The tools that religion offers are often misused by the fools of self-interest. Is that reason to disbelieve or just one more reason? If many bad apples did not spoil the whole bunch good, would they still be fruitless apples to begin with?
As a man-made tool, religion has brought cliques close and divided masses. But if not for religion, would we simply be divided into the Breakfast Club five? Princess, jock, freak, outcast, and nerd? When will the division cut out? When will we truly begin to unify?

Section 2

Is music limited to sound? What would be the reason to not include touch? A pen gracing the paper to the rhythm of only an alphabet of words constructed for the exclusive purpose of understanding. The sounds touch my ears and I feel them. The sounds we seldom hear are only for our lack of listening. The in-betweens, the off-beat note to grab our notice. Or the silence. The deafening blind silence that gets so little respect. The beauty of silence can make a song if incorporated correctly. Sometimes it is for a break. Sometimes a collective moment to absorb the lingering notes.
One great overlooked sound is that of tires running over a wet surface mixed in with the soft shudder of branches and leaves making new friends.

Section 3

If measuring affects the outcomes, then surely we are all musicians when we listen. If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it, it will sound inexplicably, remotely different.
Not to mention the fundamental acoustics that are affected by one's single presence. We are not only a reflection of our surroundings but we are a direct relation to its changes. Our presence makes the difference.
Everybody plays an important role in the outcome and that must be respected. No contribution is too small or inadequate.

First time since a 'woo'

2007-03-11T09:05:41Z

It has been an incredibly long time since I last posted in my livejournal. I come here when I'm feeling inspired...Or that's what I used to tell myself. Now, I'm not so sure of that. I think I may have just had the few most productive months of my life and I owe a debt of gratitude to my beloved.

Stephanie stepped into my life mere days after my last posting and will be there for the rest of it. She'll keep me balanced, inspired, and being the best person I can be.

So I must have come here when I was feeling inspired, but not productive. And I'd blow off my creativity through type tapping away. In recent months, I don't even know that I've done all that much in terms of...Well, let me go in the complete other direction. I've completely set myself up for the rest of my life. I have attained a way to earn a nice living. I have reformatted my computer and it's running quite nicely. I have started a webcomic (in progress of launching the site). I have met the love of my life and have built a beautiful foundation (my god...I don't think people realize how much fun relationships can be if they're with the right person). And I've figured out what I'll be doing for the next few years until Stephanie is living with me...wherever we decide to live. I am happy. Genuinely and truly. I disregarded reading an article about how more intelligent people aren't as happy because of social awkwardness and whatnot...I guess if they were smarter, they wouldn't be so stubborn in learning. I couldn't be much happier than when I'm with mah gal.

I knew very soon after we met that we were going to be a relationship that lasted. That we were going to be the last people that we dated. We're so much in line where it counts, it makes my heart melt just a smittle bidgen.

Together, Stephanie and I will complete all of the questions on okaycupid. We will beat notpron. We will do everything and anything that comes to our minds when we want to. And we'll share. Share, share, share everything important to us. I don't love sharing my toys, but like I said earlier, she does bring out the best of me.

We are perfect for one another and we will lead ridiculously prosperous lives. We're so awesome.

An Epiphany

2006-11-26T00:54:52Z

PreScript: This was originally posted on OA. I've also realized how peculiar it is to pay in monetary funds for a life lesson...I suppose we all have our own method of discovery of our flaws, this just must have been mine for this flaw. It does make some sense though...to me anyways. I hope I can learn. I know it's not too late to shut down, but I just hope I can learn.

Script:

Now normally, if I had something to write, I wouldn't write it here...but since I get points for it...and I'm slightly OCD when it comes to completion, I'll just type it up here and CAP it where I want it to be later...And I'll just leave out this disclaimer.

So I've come to a conclusion that I never saw coming. Odds are, it's extremely obvious to people surrounding me, but that it was never relevant, or never came into play in the situation. I have discovered a major flaw in myself. From early elementary school onwards, I have always attempted to discover flaws in myself and fix them. In early elementary school, I essentially learnt that it was alright to cry, but that not everything bad was worth crying about. So...sensitivity is fine, but over-sensitivity is a flaw. I agreed and that's where I began learning.

A few years before that in grade two, I learnt that everyday that passed, I was smarter than the day before. I stood in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, and punched myself in the arm. I then said, "I am smarter now than I was a moment ago." and this lesson has stayed with me ever since. I am proud to say that I taught myself life lessons, and with this recent discovery, can wilfully acknowledge that there are more to come.

This new one is a big one however. It involves discipline and my lack thereof. In fact, I have nearly no discipline whatsoever. With my boundless existence and nearly complete freedom, I've disciplined myself by exerting prize and punishment with karma and fortune. While this may seem 'good enough', it certainly isn't for me. When asked whether I want a life of leisure or accomplishment, I should not only need a life of accomplishment as I know is my destiny, but crave it. Am I sidestepping my destiny by living for the moment and not actively forcing myself to better myself for the future? I don't know for certain, but I know I certainly shouldn't. If I want to be the accomplishment I know I have to be, I should step up to my responsibilities and not let my responsibilities haphazardly happen to me.

My life isn't all fun and games. I need structure and discipline and I need to learn this lesson fast...Or I risk being overlooked.

Everything is Fine (My Pit)

2006-11-23T09:31:22Z

Everything is alright if I close my eyes and hold back the tears.
Pain is but a pit in the fruit of my womb.
It is an ever-expanding black hole-like abyss.
It is tighter than any knot ever bound.
Thicker than any blood between brothers.
Tougher than any fighter...or lover.

The pit that fills my void is not where it should be.
This pit has no place in me.
I want to expel it...but I can't.

I am a fruit and my pit is my seed is my pain.
I am barren for my pit shall bear no fruit.

As the days go longer,
And the nights grow colder,
I sit with myself,
And my pit.

It is tough to stand,
It is hard to bear,
My pit consumes me,
Even though I swallowed it.

If I had the strength for anger,
I could fight and clench and squeeze.

If I had a fighting chance,
I'd fight,
A pit is a fighting disease.

The pit is wrong and immoral,
Without ethics or quarrel,
Except with me.

I challenge it to a duel,
But it will have no fools,
It knows it can only win.

For the anger that fuels,
My strength of the duel,
Only powers it greater; What a sin.

So I cannot rest,
Be it tired I am,
Fully wretchedly wearing...
Myself thin.

And cut to the bone,
I am tossed from my throne,
My subjects have left me alone.

My pit,
Oh, my pit,
It hurts me, it does.

I can't stand the way I yell at it,
And make it grow so large.

It fills my life with hatred,
With despair,
And soon, I will fill it.

My pit is larger than a cantaloupe,
And smaller than a melon,
My stomach fills with wretched pains,
Whenever I can smell it.

It lurks around the corners,
It hides beneath the sheets,
It knows when you are hidden,
And feels your breaths leak.

I wish the pit would go away,
To a land that is far from here.

I wish my pit would find some person,
Of who else it could adhere.

I would give up my right arm,
And hand it over with my left,
For the pit to leave me be,
For the pit to leave me bereft.

While some only ask to be filled,
I only ask to be emptied,
If they felt the great displeasure of pit,
They'd surely be quite ill.

Were the pain not so intense,
The sadness so secure,
I'd bare with pit for decades more,
And gladly wander on.

Were it not for this pit within me,
I would not be so forlorn.

The clacking of keys,
Displeases my pit,
To the extent,
that it hungers.

I wish I could feed it,
Bean sprouts and earth,
But my pit only wants anguish.

"I am full," I say,
With wanton despair,
"I am not," it replies,
"I am fully bare."

The selfish reflection that fills my pit,
Hurts my every move,
Every morsel of pain I feed it,
It constantly asks for more.

It is the beast inside me,
And it holds me down,
An anchor to a boat,
With no release valve.

I am filled with 10,000 cannonballs.
I am filled with a whale.
I am filled with a pirate's ship awaiting to set sail.

I am hurting with anger.
I am hurting with pain.
The anger and pain that fills me,
Is clearly driving me insane.

So the boat that I ask to empty,
The cannonballs I'd like to remove,
The whale that harps inside of me,
Are all in stalemate in my womb.

One day my pit will be hollow,
One day I will be set free.

But until that day is upon us,
I shall have no glee.

It will ache my bones,
And wretch my heart,
And prod my brain,
And snap my back.

Destroy my hope,
Stomp on my dreams,
Have my love filled with tacks.

It will terrorize my friends,
And alienate my family,
Pollute the earth surrounding,
And violate me.

My pit has all the power,
And I haven't but an ounce.

My pit is all-consuming,
My pit is ready to pounce.

So finish your sandwich,
And perk up your tears,
Because it is not your stomach that is hungry,
But your pit that craves your fears.

Jumbled Jargon

2006-11-17T09:49:16Z

If only you could die,
I could bury you once.
Your stripes of blue,
Will end.

Don't forget the werewolf,
That bit you the night before last.
It's bite was not friendly,
It did not want to play.

Go to the pond,
And play yourself a tune.
The fish will come,
The stone will rise.

Breadth of the land,
Filled with wonder.
Hunger and pestilence,
Gain design.

Tricked out rides,
With little plastic dice.

What a Man Wants

2006-10-28T11:10:52Z

Maybe I'm just tired...it being 6:52AM and having ran on 4-5 hours of sleep per night for the past week, relying on coffee to do daily tasks...but I've lost patience. I find it incredibly hard to find 'her'. Even 'her' of the moment...So here are some things that I want (and don't) in a woman. I'll place them in order of general relevance.

Category 1: Just about mandatory
_________________________
A genuine connection.
Intelligence.
The ability to carry out meaningful conversations about philosophy, politics, religion (It is not necessary that she have an opinion on everything, or be well versed in all subjects. A genuine connection supersedes this category).
Lack of genuine self-deprecation (mocking yourself as a joke is another thing).
Enjoys my sense of humour.
Beauty.
Creates art in one form or another (even if it is seeing her job as a school custodian as an art form because she sways as she mops).
_________________________

Category 2: Nice additions
_________________________
Has a good sense of humour and can make me laugh (dry humour, sarcasm, wit [to name a few]).
Drinks rarely or not at all: Gets very drunk incredibly rarely.
Has a respectable taste in music OR is willing to learn/listen to genuinely good music.
Has interests in coming with me to do the things I do: Sitting around with friends, going out to random places, concerts, art exhibits, playing video games, playing board games, etc.
Enjoys some quirky television programs that I enjoy, specifically cartoons but not excluding drama, sitcoms, and comedy.
Smokes rarely or not at all.
Is a vegetarian (Eating chicken and/or fish does not constitute a vegetarian).
Respects the English language.
_________________________

Category 3: Don't make my life any harder
_________________________
Distance is a killer, don't do that to me.
A closed relationship takes a lot of time; Don't commit if you can't commit the time.
Open relationships are welcomed if mutual, this is something that needs to be discussed in person in detail.
_________________________

Be my Friend, Hold me, Wrap me Up, Unfold me, I am Small, I'm needy, Warm me up, And Breathe me

2006-09-18T10:06:10Z

As Monday morning comes around, I'm feeling like the weekend is over, a journey is over, a passage is over, and I need to move on. I won't be able to hear this song ever again without tears filling the ducts. I'd never heard it before, but it takes Miss Misery's place, bar none. I've never been so moved and hurt and loved and sad. I've never seen a climax so complete, so well done, so beautiful or perfect. A true artist wrote it well. I need a change. Things need to change. I feel like as this series ends, nothing can ever be the same. Everything needs to move onwards. This is so painful. I am sore inside and so filled. I love. Everything is. Nothing has ever sounded so perfect. I am so deeply saddened. Every part of me and I feel it. And I love it.

Written III: Drive

2006-09-14T08:32:23Z

Part III

Where are we going. Forward-thinking action-based novelistic approaches will be taken -- I said. I pressed the pedal to the floor and realized we weren't going anywhere. I put the key in the ignition and again, pressed the pedal to the floor. I turned the key, and for a third time, pressed the pedal to the floor. Nothing. I then switched into gear, pressed the ped--WOooooP---It's working now.

Up. Up. Down. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right. B. A.

Aim.

Fire.

It's a canon shot that tells me it's working. I've been driving frantically for six point seven minutes through traffic to get to the freeway. Freeway. I pull on with my foot. I pull on with my girl. I pull on with my hands. Riding the free waves. Driving fast and forward with complete disregard for the speed limit. We're going 35 when we should be going 70. We're rebels. Always have been, always will be.

Let's head towards the east. Canada, here we come.

Written

2006-09-04T08:24:34Z

Part II

She awoke me from my daze after three minutes of standing still. "Jamie?! Jamie darlin', are you in there?" I came to. I don't know where she came from but I know she wasn't there three minutes prior. Thousands of miles had transpired to bring us together and it was surreal. She wasn't real. Or was she? She was. I didn't expect to see you here. Why have you come? I thought...I didn't think the time...was right...I'll find you one day. "Jamie, why aren't you saying anything?" - Hello. - I took her hand in mine and walked through the quiet maze of threaded carpet and up the stairs and through the door. I left it open, but when I turned back it was closed. When I'm with her, nothing is out of place. Why is my hair pleated down the center? Oh, right. She never wanted me to be anything I wasn't. That's why she left once. That's why she left twice. That's why she's here. That's why she's here. That's why she's here. I can keep saying it and it doesn't make it a truth or a lie, just an indefinite. I'll take her somewhere we can be alone. I'll take her to a place where she'll exist; her and me. I don't know where I want to go with her. I don't know where I can take her. I just don't want her to disappear. It would be too hard to deal with. I break open the latch from my holster and pull out my revolver. I smash the window to the neighbor's car with my right hand, squeezing her hand with my left. I open the door, dust off the glass, and one-handedly jump the car as I let her climb over me into the passenger's seat, never letting go. I'm not letting go. Let's go.

Written

2006-09-03T09:04:15Z

Part I

I found a gun lying on my bedroom floor when I arose to see what had happened outdoors. The blinds were closed but it appeared as if the wind had moved through the glass and blown them to pieces. I opened what was left of my shattered blinds to discover the window in one piece. It was red outside. I stood on my bed to get a better look. With a better look, it remained red. I slid open the glass to hear a screeching to which I slammed the glass, creating a thin crack from edge to edge. The sound didn't penetrate. I made my bed and walked out the door of my room. I made my way up to the kitchen where I opened the refrigerator to discover Eggo waffles. I immediately took them out of the fridge and threw them in the garbage. I then walked back to the square cooling machine, opened the top part--being the freezer--to discover more waffles. I took the box, ripped the front of it off, tore the bag, and let one slide into my hand, edgeless and all. It made it's way into my toaster without me noticing it had gone. It was another time lapse. A moment in time where you don't exist but everything happens normally around you. They come and go from time to time and I don't know where they'll go once they've come or where they've come from whence they've gone. I reach for the syrup to discover syrup. I was baffled. I let my Eggo pop, and walk to the front entrance of the home known only as Est. 1952. It was clear to my eyes that I was seeing what was in front of me. My brain concurred. I opened the vestibule door to the mail. Man had it rained. I seeped my eyelids through the incandescent lit room to view the floods of 1987 returning to fill the streets. It was red. As the thoughts ran through my head, the gun told me it needed me. I returned to my master bedroom, bent over, and picked the gun from the rooted carpet. It snapped the growth which was the gun as it began to convulse. One brief time lapse later, the gun appeared to be experiencing convalescence. I spun the miniature revolver on my finger and placed it into my holster. It's rustling time.

Subtle Dangers

2006-08-16T09:30:11Z

I like your evil,
It's so subtle.

Clear up your speech,
Limit your syllables,
And your Latin.

Don't mince words,
Don't play games,
Mean what you say,
And let everybody understand.

Don't be crafty,
Or too complex,
A painting will never be neither alive nor dead.

Silly pipe,
It knows what it is,
Paint.

Don't be crafty,
If you don't know what you say,
You'll break the language.

Darker Amerika

2006-08-10T10:05:50Z

You're too good to be bad.
I wish I were God so I could do better things for you.
I wish.

Stop being a fucking idiot.
Please.

Thank you.

If you're done hurting yourself, let me know.
And when you're really done...
Either lying to yourself
or
Not being okay.

You can be okay with him.
You can be.
Okay?

But you know that.
So don't ask me.
And don't lie to you.
Tell yourself the truth.

Just be good.
You are good.

And you deserve.

Sleeping Position

2006-06-26T02:00:48Z

Find your own pose!

One last stop

2006-04-15T19:39:54Z

Alright, just wanted to come here and make one last ditch effort before going to shower and then disappearing into the shower, then dressing, then contemplating if I still want to go, then getting to the library 3 hours after I wanted to already be there. I am...shall we say...fucked? At least I feel that way. Financial accounting exam is on the 24...which seems far away, but I've spent three days trying to start studying. I really may have ADD...in any case, I'm just hoping to get out of here, so that'll be just about it for now. I'll fill the details in on sex (lack thereof), affection (lack thereof), and relationships (lack thereof) another time. I keep feeling like I should be breaking apart because of my situation and the more I say it, the more I feel it. It's starting to get to me...I feel awful. Final Fantasy sunday night with Kris...that should be a welcome change. I've been anti-social lately and I don't even feel it's my fault...I just feel out of touch or out of reach...I'll see everybody soon, but I'd like to see them sooner. And if you haven't been keeping up to date by downloading the individual tracks I've been listing on my LJ, I'd highly recommend you start. Enjoy!

trapped

2006-03-31T11:18:02Z

Yeah, so I'm ummm...err...trapped. Yup. Rock. Hard place. Trapped. Can't really breathe. Stressed. Fucked...but not so. This is my space. So I'm gonna rant. Hush.

Alli is awol. I'm overwhelmed with work. I'm very stressed. W*tlab*l is pissing me off (I don't want this to appear when searched). People are evil. Projects and being pushed around. And pushing people around with little results. I'm not used to being so stressed...it's not healthy for me...It's not a part of me. Where's my stress reliever? Life is striking her. I hope it all ends appropriately. I really wonder if it's her or if it's circumstance. She'll say it's the latter...but she also says that this is the way she always is. Will there ever be time for me? Will I ever become a necessity instead of a something that needs to be attended to...but is being neglected...that is going bad...that is getting hurt, and sick, and tired, and stressed, and fucked? I'm stuck in a rut. Where should I go? I have to question the world because otherwise I wouldn't get anywhere. I feel single. I feel alone. I really don't have anybody that's reliable. Everybody is on a different schedule, or has a different life. I want to share mine. It used to be that you had to tear me from one person so that I could share myself with another. What is happening to me? I need to unstick. I need to unglue. To find that solvent to save me from this rut. But what's the rut? Do I need to change myself? Cor recommended introspection. I don't see the problem being with me. Most depressed people see the problems with themselves, right? For being sad and whatnot? Yeah, I'm quite sure. I blame outside sources. Wesam, the nice guy jerk. Justin. Justin. Joe. He makes me cringe because he looks like he shouldn't. I hate his face. Julie. Fucking J-jerks. I wish I were somebody else so I could kill myself. This world fucking sucks. "Goodbye cruel world". I get it. I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take. When people run in circles, it's a very very mad world. Children waiting for the day they feel good, happy birthday, happy birthday. Could I feel the way that every child should, sit and listen, sit and listen. Go to school and I was very nervous. No one knew me, no one knew me. Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson. Look right through me, look right through me. And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.

It remains to be seen as funny

2006-03-27T09:28:30Z

It's my birthday and I don't hate it. Who knew. Two years ago was bad. And before then too probably. I don't like birthdays. They're shallow. I want gifts to acknowledge my existence. Fuck you, heh heh. It's silly. Some religions give other people gifts on their own birthdays. That seems like a smarter way to do it. "Thank you for accepting my existence," one could say.

Last year was nice. This year hasn't even fully happened yet. It's the night before I wake up on my birthday, but anyways, it was nice thus far. I have some work to do, I'll do it in a few minutes, it can wait.

Some people are so dedicated to group projects to sit there for moral support...I'm just way too jaded to care that much about something that people all around really don't care about. I suppose I need moral support to work well, but waking up at 9 or 10 in the morning for me to do so...I don't live in the same world as those people.

Thanks for the well wishes from those of you who have sent them. I'm excited to see who forgets...or who remembers. Don't really care. It's nice to have friends talk to you, but I'd like that every other day, not once a year. Some are busy, some, I mean less to, some, they mean less to me, I guess it all evens out. I hope the good ones are taken care of. Some people are just too kind to experience what they do. Poor bubble kids...I hope they never burst; they're too beautiful.

A few M83 songs have gone by thus far...what an amazing group. I was silly to not see them live. There will be more performances. No big deal.

Goodnight, morning, afternoon and evening depending when you're reading this. Toodle-oo!