What about violets?

I remember the dress you were wearing. I remember how incredible you looked. I remember pacing back and forth, waiting for you to arrive. I remember being jealous that I had to share you with the rest of the room. I remember the flowers. You told me your favorite flower and I brought them. I remember ignoring everyone around us, I had eyes only for you. I remember the way you laughed, and how when you spoke, everyone stopped to listen. I remember feeling so insignificant next to you. All I remember is you, I don't remember what I was wearing, what music was playing, who we were with, but I remember the shade of your lipstick. I remember the way you moved, how you danced and how you walked. I remember blushing when you caught me staring. I remember being close to you, and being driven away by a mass of bodies, all struggling to be near you. I remember how the whole room seemed to focus on wherever you were. Oddly enough, I remember death threats offered against you. I remember frantically searching for you, and how relieved I was to find you. I remember how in love with you I was, we all were. I remember wanting you to feel the same way, so much it made me want to cry and tear at my hair. And now, I remember these things and I realize that nothing has changed. I love you, more than I will ever be able to tell you, and I hope that someday you'll find somebody that you will always remember.

Please don't do that.

There is no worse feeling in the world than watching someone you love suffer and being entirely unable to help. I want to run, screaming, through traffic, light myself on fire, tear out all my hair, something, anything but none of that would be useful. I don't know what to do, I have to help, ignoring you isn't an option, but you won't tell me what's wrong. I don't know what else to do, I can only hope that you deem me fit to know what it is that's making you hurt. I want to take all of your worries and troubles, ball them up and take them with me to the grave.

Lux Aeterna my ass.

Being back in that place is just as uncomfortable and depressing as I'd imagined. Most of the people I respect have left and I'm left wading through the human muck that has swept in to take their place, it's depressing as hell really. It's a shame that this is the year I've finally decided to grow up, to take control of my life, this one isn't worth the effort. But I'll soldier on, me and the last remnants of my friends. It's amazing how few of them are left. I feel the need to huddle them closer, hold on to them so that thy can't slip away too. Anyway, on an entirely unrelated and slightly schizophrenic note, I'm joining a lo-fi fuzzrock band. Awesome.

Iron John

I'm glad in a way that things turned out the way they did. I've spent so long looking for some form of external validation, usually in the form of a person, that I had almost forgotten how to live for myself. I must confess some disappointment but in the end, the doing is what's important. It's truly crucial to do something with your life, everyday, to just do. It took a rambling midnight conversation with some of the most brilliant people I know to remind me of that, but now that I've got it in my head, I intend to live by it. There's no need for brooding, waiting, stuttering and stopping, action is what matters. I want to live a life in which things happen, exciting things, fun things, scary things, and the only way that will happen is by doing, going out and doing things. So yes, I am disappointed, but I'm happy as well, things could have turned out much worse, and even if they had, I made my move, took my losses and kept going, and that is, to me, an unprecedented symptom of well-being.

I'd paint a painting with joy as my brush; love as my canvas

I wish that I could put peace and harmony into words or capture love and joy with a brushstroke. I would paint a picture of beauty using the memory of this night and compose a poem out of the music of laughter. I would fill the world with art and sing out the colors of contentment. I'd take all of the energy that we made and fashion a pallet with all the colors unknown to man with which I'd sculpt an epic out of words and hum these memories. If I could do all of these things I'd share my joy with the world and give my love to you all, but I am just a writer so I hope that this will suffice: Thank you for the memories, the love and the joy, my life has been touched by you all in a myriad of ways, I wish you peace and health as well as success and joy, please take with you the knowledge that you are loved, wherever your journeys may take you.

Consanguinity

Seeing your work appreciated by others is one of life's greatest joys. Being able to flip through the book and see, page to page, my contributions, leaves me with a feeling of pride which I cannot adequately explain. I gave so much of myself to learning the trade, trying to produce something worth keeping, the book is to me my last year incarnate. I look at it's beautiful red cover and I see that bright white room, long sweeping halls, a gorgeous auditorium, and so many, many faces, gathered at football games, competitions, recitals. I see them gathered on the greens, loitering in parking lots, working backstage, hunched over desks, gathered around computer screens. I see faces that I may not see in the flesh again, friends and colleagues who have moved out int the world. I hear the laughter, so much clear, beautiful, ringing laughter. I hear the music, songs sung by thousands, big brass bands, guitar gods, and haunting melodies produced by a single human voice. I feel the presence of great minds, gathered in circles, discussing and exploring in ever more excited tones, rushing headlong towards the truth. I feel the weight of a camera in my hands, around my neck, feel it click as I capture these moments. I feel the weight of the world and lighter than air, crushing frustration and elation the likes of which I've never known. I can taste the meals shared with friends, the salty tang of the coastal air. This book contains the best part of me, and I will keep it always as a reminder of the things we made and the things we lost. Thank you, to everyone who made it possible, to everyone above and below me who was there when it all took place. Thank you for letting me play my part. Thank you.

addendum

It just occurred to me that this is the first time I've ever wanted someone to comfort me, 'til now I've always done any reassuring or commiserating that was needed. I don't like this side of the coin.

Thanks.

I want you to make me feel better. You could, if you wanted but you don't. You just say goodnight and you're gone. And I cannot help but wonder why.

That's not fair

Why would you remind me of such things?

For Kyle

There I stood, pizza box in hand, in the belly of the beast; the Department of Public Safety. Kyle to my left, TalkerChick to my right, I steeled myself to deal with the backwater scum who undoubtedly waited further on within this pale brown tomb of bureaucratic misery. Suddenly, HickBoy engages our trifecta in conversation, jarring me out of my reverie. Politics. We talk politics as the line slowly creeps towards the filth-consuming maw of the processing desk. As the conversation heats up I take note of all available exits, as well as the odd appearance of a pair of bowling shoes. A large hulking figure to my left, FootBall, joins the discussion, I recall his previous contributions which had earned his name. A crescendo is reached, the tenor of the forum has reached a new high, something is about to happen- "Could you keep it down? You're being very loud and your voice carries" says PrickFace. Bad vibes now, I am newly aware of the sickening ambiance of my surroundings, it gets very quiet, they're staring now. Kyle is visibly upset, agitated by PrickFace's comment, he and HickBoy discuss the turn of events in mutinous tones. Fearing for my safety I grip the pizza box closer, it is the only thing between me and TalkerChick. Angry stares and violent laughter, I begin to sweat as the atmosphere turns nasty, but suddenly- "You're in the hole now kid!" laughs FootBall as he steps through the gap into the reception area. He's right, we're nearly there! But what does it mean? What happens when we get there? Will they take my pizza? Will I have to sign anything? "Calm down" I say to the pizza box, "No-one can come between us now." But I am unsure. Finally we approach the desk and the octogenarian nightmare lurking behind it takes notice of us. "Papers?" She croaks. "Oh christ, what should we do?" I wonder. Aloud. To an elderly Indian woman. Before I know what is happening, papers have been signed, thumbprints taken, photos shot, samples retrieved, files checked and all manner of things filled out in triplicate. We leave, but not before exchanging dangerous glances at Hickboy and a set of old Hispanic women. Freedom. Safety. 60mph down a strip of tarmac.

Fuck you all with one-million-and-one-porpoise dicks.

What the towering pile of fuck is this shit? What have I done to offend the karmic gods so badly? First my job is on ice due to fucking corporate retardation, then my laptop decides to see exactly how many ways it can fuck up at once, and just now, to top it off I spent 20 minutes putting my fucking blogger password into the prompt before, out of the blue, it finally fucking accepted it. I'm tired and miserable and hot, and dangerously close to doing something disgustingly violent with a ball-peen hammer. I want blood.

Sadface.

Sorry it's been so long, will post more once keyboard is fixed.

My constant companion

There is a certain energy in desperation, that last reserve that serves to push you over the edge in times of need. Sometimes, it grants the ability to push through unfathomable adversity. More often it steels you just enough to succumb. When a person gets right down to the end of their rope, unable to maintain any longer, the all-too-common reaction is to end it all. It could be just a one time thought, or the actual deed, but in true crisis, it is our lot to turn towards self destruction. But why? If one's life is so intolerable that death is preferable to living another day, why not just change the offending life? Obviously, you can't sink any farther, why not quit your job, move, take up a hobby, find new friends, change everything about your life? The result can hardly be worse than life as it is. So much good could be done if one would just harness that last kick of willpower for something positive, creative, instead of destructive. And if it doesn't work out, you can always kill yourself tomorrow.

Land of the twisted and home of the criminally deranged...

They'd run me down like an animal, no mercy at all. I'd have to use an assumed name, give false references. It'd be a practice in egregious capital fraud, but could I pull it off? I think so, why not? I think I qualify as an everyday, red-blooded American, doesn't that mean something? This is the land of opportunity goddamit!

I'm sure the lions are needing new playthings...

I'm not exactly a big You-tuber (is that what they're called?), never have been, but in my recent explorations of the deepest, darkest corners of internet hell (another story, for another day) I found myself directed to what I can only describe as proof of two things:

1. Children are the spawn of some vengeful nightmare god, sent to plague the innocent and infect society with their plethora of evils, and
2. They are incapable of using the internet without degenerating to the level of inbred, illiterate sewage gremlins.

 First up was the recent shitstorm surrounding Kerligirl13, or Jessie Slaughter, an escaped inmate from some high-security backwater mental institute, who decide it was wise to engage the depraved, soulless mass that constitutes Youtube's userbase, in argument. Needless to say, she got her annoying 11 year old ass verbally handed to her and decided that she rather disliked being insulted and would like everyone to kindly stop. Please? What do you mean 'No'? Oh, I see, this is the internet, where things like Lemonparty and Zippocat are allowed to exist, my mistake.
From there, such a fetid multitude of pathetic, angry children and their bitter, pedophilic fans gushed forth through the unholy, septic wound in the world that is Youtube, that I am still as yet unable to express the depths of my grief for the Human race. I thought that I disliked, even despised children before today. No. Before, they were certainly irritating, even distasteful, but I hadn't taken a proper look in far too long. The bastards have to go. This batch is no good. Box them up and label them 'Dog Food', I don't care, just get rid of them. We'll just have to try again.

Philosophical meanderings.

Reading the Tao Teh Ching currently.It's sort of mind-blowing, yet underwhelming at the same time. The Tao is the basis for all modern eastern philosophy, and yet it's tautological and frequently paradoxical nature render it completely useless as a practical guide. Very interesting stuff but infuriating all the same.

Spy v.s. Spy

Is it just me or does the whole 'Russians spy on us, we spy on the Russians' back and forth thing seem kind of like a child's game at this point? There are no consequences for getting caught, other than a setback in the short game, and we're not at war, even a cold one so there's not much to gain. It seems to me that the FBI and the SVR are just palling around, spying on each-other in order to stave off boredom and stagnation. I have nothing against this policy, but it does bring to mind an amusing image of some tuxedo wearing American spy facing off against the sexy Anna Chapman in an overly dramatic game of laser-tag. This latest spy exchange confirms these suspicions, to my mind at least, in that everything is proceeding as though according to some rule book, an amicable trade dictated by the laws of the spy-game. How governments amuse me...

You're not that social, just a good drinker

I love the fact that this nation has reached a level of hypocrisy where it is deemed acceptable for the morbidly obese to give me dietary advice.

'Round and 'round, like a top.

Love is a well-worn guitar and a pretty girl.
Love is a smile and a ukulele.
Love is a single orchid and an awkward hug.
Love is a bowl of soup and daytime television.
Love is walking hand in hand completely lost.
Love is a rainbow trout.
Love is grinning for no reason.
Love is an accomplice.
Love is a big flannel shirt on a cold night.
Love is singing completely off-key.
Love is digging in your heels and not budging.
Love is a bear hug on the roof of a car.
Love is a tearful goodbye.
Love is an unmarked shoe-box.
Love is a bonfire shared over the phone.
Love is annoying phone calls at 3 a.m.
Love is a spontaneous game in a big-box-mart.
Love is a lost keepsake found at rock bottom.
Love is mutual stunned silence.
Love is Love and that's all there is.

Mr. Miyagi would be proud.

Once again, it's very early in the morning and I'm sitting here in the dark contemplating the ebb and flow of life. The downpour over the last thirty-six hours has done strange things to the landscape as well as the wildlife. It's really rather interesting watching how nature responds in a time of crisis. There is balance in everything, and life will always maintain that balance. The water spreads and the land contracts and vice-versa, both carrying with them their own life-forms. It's a struggle as old as life itself, although I prefer to think of it as a sort of flowing dance. The energy flows from one form to another, through organisms and through the gross physical change of the landscape. It all moves slowly to and fro, fluidly, but with inexorable strength.

Smooth like...

So It's almost two in the morning. I have an interview (hopefully) in about eight hours and I meant to go to sleep at about ten-ish. Didn't quite work out.
I've been sitting here at my desk, sketching furiously, pausing only to find new source material and check my work, in an almost feverish haze of production. Is any of it any good? No, but it makes me happy to be drawing again.
I've had the song 'Strawberry Weed' by Caesars on repeat for hours now. It makes me think of you, but not like I did before. I meant it when I said I'd finally let you go, but part of letting go is seeing all of the good and the bad in you, and I must say I liked what I saw.
Anyway, I think I'll take this opportunity to finally hit the sack, Goodnight all.

It's a crystaline tower of life. I love it.

The story so far.

And suddenly the street was lit with the intensity of a thousand dying suns. The light had no source and cast no shadows, it appeared to be emanating from the street itself. The buildings lining the street began to mold and change, as did the light-posts, trash bins, and other accoutrement. Slowly the ghastly light faded away and a new scene was revealed, a garden lane in the middle of a field of wild flowers. There were daisies and buttercups as well as bluebonnets and poppies. The sky above was a clear, bright blue with only a few whispy cotton ball clouds drifting lazily through it. All over the feeling of the place was quiet but cheerful, it was a happy place. A man in a shabby brown overcoat shuffled suddenly into the scene, seeming lost. He removed the coat, for it was much too heavy for the season. Gazing into the sky, He whispered something incomprehensible and fell into a dead faint. Thus several hours passed and the sun began to recede behind a distant outcrop of purple mountains. When He awoke, He surveyed the land around Him in the dieing light, shaking His head. Abruptly, He stood, brushed himself off and stumbled off in the direction he had been heading.

2 years and never started counting...

I finally understand what you meant. Thank you for setting me free.

Self Delusion

Was stared at by several attractive girls today, I choose to believe that I'm back on my game and not just hideous enough to openly stare at.

Thanks.

I love my friends. For all our bickering, fighting and outright fisticuffs, things are always significantly improved with a few buddies around. They can turn loneliness into a wealth of opportunity, depression into raucous laughter, and stagnation into cataclysmic action. I've written and re-written this post six times now and I've found that there is no way to properly express my gratefulness through any language that I know. I guess all I can do is say Thank You. Thank you for everything, the good times, the bad times, the jokes and the advice, the delinquency and the altruism, Thank you for the arguments, the conversations, the kisses and the blood spilled in anger. Thank you for all that you've done, I look forward to the growth and expansion of our sordid friendships. I guess that's all.

The life less hectic

There's something about laying on the beach at three in the morning, listening tot the waves roll in, watching for shooting stars that does something magical to the mind. All worldly cares simply fade away, cease to matter. Conversation flows like it never has before and confrontation becomes an abstract concept. Nocturnality meshes with the coastal way of life in exciting and unexpected ways. On the beach, time is different, people don't look at you askance because you wake up at two p.m. and don't go to bed until sunrise. Needless to say, I'm excited.

Stress,

Thy name is Summer.

Shit man,

I need to get into shape.

Him

And there He stood, alone in the rain. He looked left, and He looked right. He seemed to see what He was looking for, because He suddenly turned and trudged on down the street, his sodden sneakers squelching in the puddles. It wasn't long before He came to a halt again, in front of an old bus shelter. He did not immediately take cover from the rain, but stared at the worn frame of plastic and aluminum. Finally He shuffled forward and took a seat beneath the faded canopy. For a long time He sat and watched as the rain swept in waves down that lonely street. Unseen and unheard by anyone, he hummed a sad, slow tune to himself. As slowly as He had sat down, He got to his feet. He looked to the horizon where the sun was just beginning to emerge from the cloud cover, just in time to slip out of sight again. He turned and trudged back the way he came. As He walked, He began to sing the same sad song from before. It was a beautiful song. No one saw Him, no one heard him, no one noticed as he made his way back to wherever it was that He had come from. No one ever noticed.

God bless you please Mrs. Robinson...

So... Toy Story 3...
My childhood has finally done as it's threatened to do for years now and come full circle. Film has personified my life in so many ways, and to see this movie, at this time in my life... I can't quite explain what it means to me.
On the one hand, I'll be going away soon as well, and many of my friends are moving on right now, the whole climate of my life is in such perfect harmony with that simple children's movie, it's almost farcical. I suppose it was always meant to be that way, we, the children of the nineties, grew up with Andy, even if his almost misanthropic fixation with toys was a little creepy, he was a constant with which we could identify, he was a reflection of ourselves, there to check our progress against. As much as his toys were to him, he was our friend. It's odd seeing a character grow older, and stranger still growing older at the same pace as yourself. I guess what I mean to say is that I'm glad I saw the movie, it filled a niche I never even noticed before. I am content.

So...

We broke up and she disappeared and I haven't seen her in years and now she's fat and now I'm laughing my ass off. That will be all.

Retrograde Part two

I think this may be the fever talking, but I am very, very angry with you. You're blind, you know that? Blind and stupid and wonderful. You take everybody for granted. You're surrounded by people who would die to make you smile, and all you do is complain that there's no-one good enough. Well, fuck you then. Time after time you turned away brilliant guys, never even giving them a once-over. You leave a path of heartache and confusion in your wake and you don't even notice. Half the people you've ever met are crippled by their need to protect you and keep you happy. They can't function in normal relationships because you're there, a cancer on their mind. A selfish, blind cancer. But I can't hate you for it, because you're entirely innocent. You never mean to hurt anyone. You are the single most unfortunate person ever to live. You've ruined a generation, yet remain singularly faultless. Definitely the fever talking now.

Retrograde

Between the many naps, passing out on the floor, coughing up a lung, confinement to the house and general lack of entertainment, I've had a pretty shitty day. I haven't been this sick in a while, you kinda forget how to function. At this point I've forgotten what the will to live feels like. Hopefully I'll either recover completely or die in my sleep tonight, either one works at this point. It's taking me forever to type this, I can't focus on the screen and I keep making mistakes. I think I may have had a point but I've forgotten what it was now. Please kill me.

To whom it may concern.

I don't think I'm going to be able to get my head around this one for quite a while. I'm still reeling from the realization that each individual one of the Seniors who I've loved and hated, laughed and cried with, learned from and looked up to, is going off into the real world.
I don't know what to feel. There's a great and powerful sense of joy and pride in seeing them finally achieve this step in life, but it's backed up by a deep heartache at the loss of so many friends.
You were my role models, wingmen, partners, rivals, teachers, and above all my friends. I don't intend to let this be the end either, ya'll aren't done hearing from me yet. Even as you move off to college, to work, etc. I look forward to learning from you still. I learned how to be a student from you guys, and I'll learn how to be man from you too.
Congratulations on your freedom, I wish you much success and happiness in real life.

Death of the everyman's lonely pipedream

This is so wrong, first day of Summer and I'm bored to death. Tried to enjoy the party, but the logistics of the thing made it impossible. A party can't function if everyone is already paired off, there has to be a proper ratio of the unattached to the couples. Singles are the ones who mingle and catalyze the entire event. I hate being single, just because of the inconvenience; I have no one to see movies with, I can't just call someone up and go someplace, everyone is tied down to somebody else. At least when I'm with someone I'm not bored, I'm one of the tied-down folks. I guess it's an If you can't beat em', join em' kind of scenario, if everyone can't be single and unattached, I'd like to be one of the pairs.

Oh well, I guess I'll just have to put that on the list. Gotta get a job so I can get money so I can pay for things so I can take people out so I can get a girlfriend so I won't be bored. Woohoo.

The Aftermath

What should have happened.
Her: "Wow, you really like me don't you?"
Me: "Yup."
Her: "We should do something about that."

How it went down.
Her: "Silence"
Me: "Well shit."

Bohemian like you

Isn't it funny how we see other people as what we want them to be? I see a pretty girl, instantly in my mind she's got an entire personality, history, circle of friends, drug of choice, music preference, etc. based only on my first impression. Sometimes I'm even right. No, that's a lie, no-one is shallow enough to figure out that easily. I know other people do it too, psychologists even have a word for it, projection, they call it. I wonder how many times I've passed on talking to a stranger, or offended one, just because I've made stupid assumptions about them.
It's not just first impressions either, until we really get to know someone on a deeply personal level we continue to make these assumptions, projecting flaws, characteristics, talents, quirks, etc. on to them. Think about it, have you ever had a crush on a friend of yours, only to realize later that you completely romanticized their personality?
I actually have a theory about that. I think it's a biological thing, Mother Nature trying to push us towards a mate. Who knows?
It bothers me, thinking back on people I no longer know and wondering whether I ever really did or whether I'm just remembering how I wanted them to be. Or, friends I do still talk to, how many of them do I really understand? I've always prided myself on making good character judgments but what if I'm just more deluded than the average sap?
Oh well...

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play...

I think I'm going to go out for the Pop Show next year, I've been making progress with Harrison again and I was saddened by the lack of Beatles music. I'm not quite sure what I'd play but I'm thinking either Yesterday or Julia. Hmmm.... This seemed more poignant when I first contrived to write it down late last night, eh, oh well.

Bastante

I'm not eloquent, I'm honest.
I'm not talented, I work for it.
I'm not brave, I'm desperate.
I'm not artistic, I'm persistant.
I'm not romantic, I just do my best.
I'm not a genius, I'm just conscious.
I'm not altruistic, I'm pragmatic.
I'm not selfish, I'm a survivor.
I'm not extroverted, I'm afraid of being alone.
All of these things that I am, and all you can see is what I'm not.

Incendiary

I'm so angry, I can't find the words to express this rage. I've never been this furious before, I just want to destroy something beautiful. I feel like creating, and in the same breath, incinerating something pure and good. I can't stop my hands from shaking. If I don't calm down, someone is going to get seriously hurt.

I will stroll casually across your broken dreams

The quality of my day is much improved when I wear my Gonzo-fucking-huge-boots. I love them.

The Top Five Songs I Stole Today:

1. Pepper -The Butthole Surfers
2. Even Flow -Pearl Jam
3. Grass -Animal Collective
4. Mambo No.5 -Lou Bega
5. Question -Old 97's

And that's that.

Edit: Just listened to The Fuck Off Song by Reel Big Fish, easily the most poignant song I've heard in a long while.

If I ever have children

Feel free to kill me with a ball-peen hammer, for at that point I will have abdicated the right to participate in society. Babies are an unholy blight upon the earth.

All of my idols are whores

And I'm fine with that.

100 confessions, round three:

1. I love Hunter S. Thompson
2. I'm finally doing well in school, just in time for summer
3. I need to get back into photography, the sun is waiting for me
4. I love Photoshop
5. My train of thought was just derailed by my best friend
6. I'm less paranoid than my parents, I take that as a good sign
7. Spraypaint is a fascinating invention
8. Peppermint tastes odd, sort of like licorice-lite
9. Mental Image: all I'm wearing are shorts
10. I found ten bucks in change under my bed today
11. Being progressively more cruel has allowed me to be nicer without people noticing
12. Not only do I live in the Friendzone, I've thoroughly mapped it and established a colony in the land of Now's-not-a-good-time-for-me
13. It takes an hour and a half in photoshop to make me feel good about myself
14. A Saturday night with my friends works too
15. Palm trees are beautiful
16. I like to sleep with my head at the foot of the bed and my feet under the pillows
17. I think its because I've grown comfortable with strange situations
18. A few days ago, my entire life plan was thrown into question
19. Then I remembered that I don't have one
20. I'm still working on that six-pack, but all I've got are hunger abs
21. I need to put gas in the car but I'm broke
22. I just remembered the ten bucks from earlier, score!
23. I think I've finally started living a healthy life
24. I've just decided, I don't really regret anything I've ever done, its all been worth it to become who I am
25. 1984 is still my favorite book, I learn something new every time I read it
26. I want a pet Camel Spider
27. I've got drymouth so bad it feels like Kuwait is in my mouth
28. I can't go down to the kitchen til my 'rents are asleep
29. My walls are covered in memories, but I'm only proud of the 1x1 ft. square with all the concert ticket stubs from this year
30. I don't think 'The Office" is very funny, its kind of lame actually
31. Come to think of it, I don't really watch T.v. anymore, go me
32. I still don't have a hobby
33. There is not a single flattering, unphotoshopped picture of me, anywhere in existance
34. I want to learn to unicycle
35. I'm going to get my pilot's license as soon as I'm out of college
36. Or maybe in college, it'd be a great way to meet girls; "Hi, wanna see the earth from 20'000 feet?"
37. I can't decide between San Antonio and Corpus Cristi
38. Black bears are cute, I want to hug one. One that's VERY heavily sedated
39. I kind of want to go to a rumble since I found this old steel rod laying by the railroad tracks
40. I want a bowler hat
41. Sometimes, I lay really still and pretend that I don't exist
42. I can hold my breath for a full minute
43. I once tried to hold my breath til I died, but I've since learned its impossible
44. I like Baseball shirts
45. If I had better handwriting, I'd write letters to everyone
46. I love PostSecret
47. I'm too lazy to send mine in, so I do this
48. I find it odd that I've never wanted to live outside of Texas
49. That's not true, I want to live on Manhattan, but apart from that...
50. Halfway there, should I be sad or relieved?
51. I want my sideburns to hurry up and grow, they look odd right now
52. I want a beard to obscure my acne
53. I've never understood eyebrows
54. If you gave me even the most insignificant hint, I would sweep you up and away from here
55. But all your hints are for the others
56. I'm running out of good books
57. If 'The Seeker' turns out to be some sort of joke, heads will roll
58. Showers are peaceful places
59. Pragmatism is a useful philosophy
60. Half the people who read this will not get the tautology
61. When I read stoners' stories, I hear Keanu Reeves' voice
62. I'm becoming interested in scuba diving
63. I found an old journal from middle school, one of my goals was to have a serious girlfriend in High School, mission accomplished I suppose
64. I didn't even know I had goals back then
65. I used to play with the N64 controller, pretending it was a spaceship
66. I don't want to go to the Yearbook Banquet without a date, but honestly, who would I take?
67. When I'm bored, I imagine what it is that various couples will break up over, and who they'll date next
68. That, or I try and tell what they'd sound like when they have an orgasm
69. Mohawks are overrated
70. I was almost picked up for vandalism, I finished my work as soon as the cop left
71. I keep meaning to re-watch "Requiem for a Dream" because the protagonist's voice is stuck in my head
72. Since my Psych exam, I've been analyzing everyone and everything around me
73. It was fun at first but now its just annoying
74. You make me self-conscious, even when I know you can't see me
75. 3/4ths of the way through, and I'm wondering what the significance of this is
76. I never built those rabbit snares I wanted
77. Is not as lucky a number as it used to be
78. I want to donate my hair to help clean the oil spill but I've waited too long for it to grow out again
79. Parking spaces should give out little prizes for perfect parking jobs
80. Still thirsty, it's almost debilitating now
81. I learned how to whistle
82. one note
83. I can't cry anymore, unless I'm bored
84. I want to learn to surf/ snowboard
85. I hate the sound of teeth coming together
86. I don't care if you hate me, I'm keeping the painting
87. I'm sorry I said anything, I'm glad you guys worked out okay
88. I really like Ska for some reason
89. I couldn't stop from laughing when I heard about my cousin's ski-do accident, it's the quintessential white injury
90. I'm gonna get me some orange soda and peanutbutter cookies when I'm done with this
91. I just realized that tomorrow is Friday, slayer!
92. I wish that I could put in extra hours and catch up to my friends in age so I wouldn't be the young'n anymore
93. The year of my birth
94. I want to pet a great-white shark
95. And hold the Vampyroteuthis infernalis, Vampire squid from hell
96. In my lifetime I firmly believe that I will walk both on the Moon and at the bottom of the Marianas Trench
97. You were the reason I got into Journalism in the first place, and now you're the only reason I put up with it
98. You also taught me to love it...
99. I want one of those old 1800's big wheel bicycles
100. To be continued...

Great or Greatest?

"How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?"

"We are all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fueled that 60's. That was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip. He crashed around America selling "consciousness expansion" without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that were lying in wait for all the people who took him seriously... All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their loss and failure is ours too. What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped create... a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody... or at least some force - is tending the light at the end of the tunnel. "

"Dogs fucked the Pope... no fault of mine."

"The store was closed, but the salesman said he could wait if we hurry. But we were delayed en route when a stingray in front of us killed a pedestrian."

"You scurvy shiester bastard. I'm a doctor of journalism man! Get in there and clean your shorts! Clean your shorts goddammit like a big boy!"

"That'll blast you right through the wall. You'll be stone dead in ten seconds. Shit, they'll make me explain things!"

"...hamburger stand, she's a waitress about 16 years old. They chopped her goddamn head off right there in the parking lot. Then they cut all kinds of holes in her and sucked out the blood. They were after the peneal gland I think. Yeah. Nah, how's ya mama?"

"Madam, sir, baby, child, whatever."

"One of the things you learn from years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug. Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye."

"With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know."

"When I came to, the general back-alley ambience of the suite was so rotten, so incredibly foul. How long had I been lying there? All these signs of violence. What had happened? There was evidence in this room of excessive consumption of almost every type of drug known to civilized man since 1544 AD. What kind of addict would need all these coconut husks and crushed honeydew rinds? Would the presence of junkies account for all these uneaten french fries? These puddles of glazed ketchup on the bureau? Maybe so. But then why all this booze? And these crude pornographic photos smeared with mustard that had dried to a hard yellow crust? These were not the hoofprints of your average God-fearing junky. It was too savage. Too aggressive."

Po'

Being broke sucks.

Chronological ClusterFuck

My time is all wrong. I"ve woken up to two mornings today, this day has been so long, its stretched from Friday til Sunday, and it's showing no signs of ending. I'm here again, in the same position as I was two, maybe three days ago, everything is the same. I look outside and the sun is rising, then its dark and the streetlights glow orange, no its dusk, no, dawn, and noon, and 6 in the evening. Here there is no light, no time. Sleep means nothing when you were never awake. When am I? 12:24 a.m? sure, why not?

Hold the Phone!

The father-figure strode out of the darkness to save the day! with a deft combination of button-mashing and switch-flipping, he managed to eliminate the problem and resuscitate said device! The iPod lives on to fight another day!

...

Well Shit. My iPod is officially broken. I think I may cry.

Its funny how much music defines my life, I remember when my giant-ass headphones broke, I felt naked without them around my neck. Now, without the reassuring weight of my thousands of songs resting in my pocket, I feel doubly so. The knowledge that at any time I can whip out a verse that expresses exactly what I feel is immensely reassuring to me, its a constant in a chaotic world, and until I find a replacement, I can't do that anymore. I feel like an infant that has been weaned too soon, starving for the one nutrient I need.

In honor of the deceased, my Top Five Songs to Eulogize an iPod:

1. First day of my life -Conor Oberst/ Bright Eyes
2. The impression that I get -The Mighty Mighty Bosstones
3. Tick tick boom -The Hives
4. Summer skin -Death Cab for Cutie
5. Tubthumping -Chumbawumba

AAAAAGGGGHHHHH

This is so not fair. I moved on with my life, I forgot about you, I finally put you out of my mind. I was doing so well, but it just couldn't last, could it?

Asylum inmates don't know what it is to be this numb.

Oh god am I bored... I just pulled myself up off of the floor, I've been staring at the ceiling for about half an hour, with a cashew sitting on my cheek from where I missed a toss to my mouth. Truly such crippling boredom has to be unhealthy, I feel like I've been lobotomized and left in the sun to dry. I think my mind is going, I won't make it another ten minutes without some kind of distraction.

Had to stop and get my bearings, my head feels heavy and my thoughts are sluggish. Fuck it all.

Success!

Thank you Tyler Durden

I sit here, at 5:30 in the morning, not tired, not weary, nor even fatigued. I sit here because this is my life. My life is a series of 5:30's, most of them passed by without a thought, but not this one. No, this 5:30 is special. For this one, I am alive. I want to go bowling, I will go bowling. I want to spend time with a friend, I will call them, if I want to lay in the middle of the road and dare cars to hit me, then goddamit, I'm laying in the road. From now on, if I want it, I will do it.

I'm sick of living in my little bubble, separate from everybody else. I want to tear down fences, build bridges, I want to be the catastrophe that brings neighbors together. But not yet. For now, I'm going to experiment with living for a change, my revolution can wait.

Tonight, this morning, I begin to live. This is not a resolution, a promise, a stated goal or a message of any particular intent, it just is. The lives we lead offer the inherent danger of slipping back into my daily routine, and someday I may succumb, maybe even willingly, who knows? But for now, for once, I will not speculate on the future. I'm just going to live my life.

Skittles

Know what's awesome? Skittles. Skittles are fucking great. Take a moment and wrap your empty skull around that. Contemplate how much you'd really like some skittles right now.

No, seriously, do it, I'm waiting.

Done? Want some kick-ass skittles now? Thought so. Know why? Because they're fucking radical, that's why.

This will conclude this important Skittle announcement:

In Memorium

Those were the jeans I wore
Now they are no more
From coast to coast
and stream to stream
to the riverbank where they tore.

Back in those days we were free
Free to be you and me
But time made us shackles
so we raised up our hackles
and screamed to the night 'Let me be!'

The music, the clothes and the air
contrast with your pretty pink hair
We grooved to the tunes
and laughed just like loons
and pretended that we didn't care

I know that it had to end
But let me tell you, you were a friend
When we walked through the fair
you meeting my stare
On me I wished you'd depend

Now that those days are gone
My jeans, your face and our songs
all have drifted away,
for they could not stay,
to places for which I still long

Concerning the passing of time

   Adjacent to the man in the white hat, behind the doppelganger, atop the bench and above the eunuch. That is where you stood. In the railway station that led to nowhere, in a mass of artists and tourists alike, you stood alone. Sure, there was the young one, and sometimes the prude, but you were always there, unwavering,understanding, but not sympathetic. No, you were cold, cold but not dead. In you was the rare spark, frigid life. You were the single vine coiled about the barbed wire, eking out life amongst icy death.
   Yes, there atop your perch you surveyed, through hooded eyes, your vibrant yet boring surroundings. From mine I saw your eyes scan the hall, past ghosts made solid and people made to paper. Beauty is what what we sought, you and I. I like to think we found it, later, amongst branches and long dead behemoths, amidst those same sad artists and lonely tourists, at once quickened with life, if only for a while. Yes, beauty is what we sought, and beauty is what we found, in ink and pulp and bits of sand.
   Yet for all our success you were never satisfied, long past I'd stopped looking, you were visible on the shoreline, overlooking the wall. It was there that I captured the essence of your soul. Ink and pulp could never do you justice, but I like to think I tried. I was not the only one. For less than a score of mornings, you drifted to and fro on that frothy rock. For all I know you are still there. When last I saw you, you were far away, certainly not in the here and now, no I was alone that day, even before we said "goodbye".
   So I will always remember, not the you that was so distant and lost, but the you adjacent to the man in the white hat, behind the doppelganger, atop the bench and above the eunuch.

Round the world and home again

That's the sailor's

way
Faster faster, faster faster

There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing

Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a-blowing

Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a-glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing

"If I could open my arms, and span the length of Manhattan..."

Sitting in the dark with a big bag of M&M's, crankin' the tunes and reading some truly bizarre blogs. Just another night in the life of an American teenager.

I love how everything we loved as little kids became taboo as we became big kids, but now that we're growing into adults, its okay to love it again. There's nothing quite like seeing a scruffy dude in a nirvana T-shirt hunched over a game-boy playing Pokemon like its the most fascinating thing in the world.

Just took a shower, lost my thought.

Ah, Jesse Lacey, how you know the chord progression to my heart, I'll never know. I really do love just sitting here with my music and my writing, I feel like this is how my life is supposed to be, this is normal.

Maybe I'm just a nerd. Who cares? For once you get a blog that's filled with contentment instead of angst. Be grateful. Be happy.

P.S. Here's the music that's put in this state of mind:

1. Marching Bands of Manhattan- Death Cab for Cutie
2. We are Going to Be Friends- White Stripes
3. The First Day of My Life- Bright Eyes
4. In Action- We Are Scientists
5. Back Against the Wall- Cage the Elephant

Fire

in my head and ice in my gut.

It hurts, it burns, it screams within my skull. I want to crush my skull and let the crazy bleed out of the cracks.
My mind is whirring away faster than I can type. Red and Black flash in front of my eyes, the screaming won't stop.

My hands are shaking, I keep making mistakes. Why is this happening? Not now. Please.

I'll be better, I promise, just let me make it through the night. My hair is aflame and my entrails are shards of frozen hatred. I feel like vomiting but nothing comes up and I just sputter and choke.

Fuck.

Why won't the screaming stop? Take it away, take it away, take it all away!

Writing this seems to be keeping it in check if not helping it. It hurts to focus. I regret it all. I recall every petty mistake I've made in my life, they burn as they are seared into my eyes. My humiliation has never been this complete.

Its starting to pass.
Fuck it still hurts. My chest aches, tears are streaming down my face.
Fuck.

Good Deeds

I've done mine for the day.

Feels good.

Ba-Pah!

How does one describe the joy of emptiness? How to put into words and phrases the unparalleled freedom beholden to the apathetic? Surely there is a way but it is beyond me.

Another day, another "Cure". Sometimes I wish they would just medicate me like normal people.

Happiness, sadness, all gone. Emptied out by a prescription or a fix. Emotions spirited away to far-off corners of an uncaring world.

I'm not unhappy, I'm just... I just am. Again. This is familiar territory. The cliche is almost unbearable but I really am just a caricature of the American Teen. Maybe I'm not the stupid American envisioned by denizens of the outside world, but I fit, jigsaw like, into the framework laid down by disinterested Hollywood directors and manipulative writers.

I am Donnie Darko/ Igby/ The Lisbon's (lost son)/ Susanna Kayson('s alter ego)/ Jason Dean/ Harry Goldfarb/ etc. etc. ad nauseum. But boring. Very, Very Boring.

What happens when you can no longer distinguish misery from everyday life? Adolescence.

Paradox of Affection

There is much to say and so very little time to say it, so I shall make haste.
There is a certain feeling (euphoria perhaps?) that overwhelms me in your presence. Long have I watched, never speaking, only listening. Perchance you've noticed? No. No, that would be asking too much. Verily, mine is the lot of the sad and quiet. One day, however, one day I shall rise and all shall know my name. Then, perhaps, you shall deign to notice me. When I am chief among your suitors, will you glance my way? When the world is mine and all are mine for the taking, would you give yourself to me? No. No, and that is why my desire has grown and grown. Your contempt would no more be mitigated by wealth or status than by the weather or daily news. You cast not a glance towards Yours Truly, not because I am beneath you, but because you are honestly disinterested, and this horrid honesty is what makes you so reassuringly attractive. It may be that I have said too much now, perhaps these things are better left unspoken (they oft are) but I'm afraid that I am neither able nor willing to maintain plaintive silence any longer, silently lusting whilst you flit to and fro 'neath my gaze.

I love you precisely because you will not love me.

Home Again

Got back from the Big Bend today, well, technically yesterday as it's now 4:09 a.m. but still...
It does a body good to go off into the world. I look forward to being able to run off without parental supervision in the near future; Summer is close and for the first time I have a license and a vehicle, and I intend to use them.
For now I am at peace, the desert air has refreshed me. Currently, I'm avoiding sleep because if I don't sleep, I don't have to get up in the morning.
My car is in the shop and it's supposed to be very, very cold this morning, so I'm not looking forward to my commute, although I may have a ride.

Lost my train of thought, had to kill a bug.

I love being nocturnal, though I wish I had some caffeine, even one of those horrid 5-hour things.
anyway, I'm just rambling now, as is my wont early in the morning, so I shall bid thee adieu.

Genetic, Contagious.

Just wanted to let a couple of things be known;

1. Life is good
2. I love you

That will be all.

Raised by Wolves

I'm antsy again. I've got that familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach that can only mean one of two things; either something is about to go terribly wrong or I'm about to to have the time of my life.
I don't know what is about to happen but I know that it will be dangerous and exciting and exhilarating. Hopefully it will also be fun. It usually is.

The desert at night can be amazingly peaceful. With any luck I'll be able to sneak away over spring break and enjoy some stargazing.

A shiver just ran down my spine, this is going to be big. I can barely suppress a giggle. I really am out of control, I need to get a grip. Every time I close my eyes an image appears before me; a street, lit by a single old streetlight. I'm sprinting headlong forward, feet pounding madly, arms flailing, hair whipping around my face. I look back and grin from ear to ear. Friends, I'm not sure who, but I know they're friends, are running along with me. A pack of laughing, whooping, running dervishes we are. I open my eyes and all that is left is a faint after-image of my foot outstretched to take another step forward.

I'm excited.

"They hung her from the bridge on Monday. The gathering turned into a mob out on the lawn. They dropped her body in the river. And school and work returned to normal before long..."

Despite my fatalistic protests to the opposite, life is actually pretty okay for me right now. I started talking to people again, which is good. I love meeting new people, I just don't seem to do it much anymore. I'm thinking about calling some old friends just to say 'Hello" as well.
In fact, the more I write it down, the more I realize that I'm actually in a very good mood! Odd how that happens, we don't realize how we really feel til its already out of our mouths. Its funny how my heart can swell with joy after so long being withered and dry, I suppose I still have enough room in my life for people after all. How exhilarating it is to just live life, I am constantly amazed at the little things that make me smile; a stranger's laugh, a friend's smile, the bright sunshine, the shiver of anticipation as the clock nears 2:15. Life is good.

I guess I'll conclude with another Top Five: The Top Five All Time Folk Songs:

1. Alice's Restaurant -Arlo Guthrie
2. This Land is Your Land -Woody Guthrie
3. Where Have All the Flowers Gone? -Pete Seeger and Peter, Paul, and Mary
4. Little Boxes -Pete Seeger
5. The Times, They are A'Changing -Bob Dylan

"But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself. It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope."

Being alone sucks. Do you realize that? it really does. It sucks on a major scale. Loneliness is no minor suckage, this is major-league, knock-down-and-drag-out misery here.

Being alone is akin to having white-hot metal disks inserted underneath your fingernails. In your mind.
So what do we do? We try and get together, to pair off, we find ourselves someone we can stand and who, more importantly, can stand us and we stick with them. And when this brilliant setup goes wrong? Fire and Brimstone.

Every now and again, you can find someone who fits the above description, and you settle down, and all is good, right? And then what? It all goes to shit. Or even more likely, you find someone who you think the world of, someone you could spend the rest of your life loving, and what happens? They see you as the scum of the earth, not worth their notice. So you crawl away, broken and bruised, nursing your wounds.

It all ends in loneliness. At least for us it does. There will always be those for whom the system works, those who get their fairy-tale ending. They exist just to offer you false hope so that your dreams may be shattered and defiled once more.

Galvanized

My brain is about to implode from a frenetic blend of boredom and manic energy.

I want to run and jump and scream and shout as I rush down dark streets in the night. I want to be in a pack, a gang of free children, unstoppable and ever-moving. I want to find out how many fences can be jumped, how many roads can be ran, how many holes crawled through in one night. I want to be free and wild and open.
This house is a cage, its bars made of warmth and comfort and heavy rules. I want to be uncomfortable, I want to be lawless and cracked open. I want to break rules, not because they are rules but because they are barriers. I want to revel in the cold, frosty air as I shudder, more from excitement than anything else.
I want to watch as the world burns to the ground behind closed suburban doors while I sprint past, hurtling along to some unspecified destination. I want to whoop and cheer and cackle and call.
The world is a big, dangerous playground and I want to get hurt, to get dirty, down, down, down to the Earth. I want to scrape knees and tear jeans. I want to crawl through the mud, the rusty pipes.

I want to run, swiftly, without cause, purpose or destination.

New and Shiny

I quite like this new look, true the dates don't quite work and it's difficult to navigate, but overall I think it'll do, at least until I find an even better one.

Not a nefarious attempt.

So, I just got home, stripped off my suit, slip into jeans and a T-shirt and flopped down on the bed to do some thinking, and I've wrestled myself to a stalemate. My thinking was this: what would happen if we abolished individual governance? Completely overthrew the system of nations, protectorates etc. that we have today? I wonder, after the completely implausible event that would have to occur in order to make it so, what would happen? Would one, global, government be more efficient? Fair? Just? or would it be doomed to inevitable failure? I've got my hypotheses but I was wondering, what do you think?
So, I'm asking any and all of you who read this blog to give me an answer, I won't be posting anything new for a few days so I can focus on this discussion. Please, don't be shy, I want to hear from you.

Aerosmith

Listening to the above named band now, Jane's got a gun is such a great song. I wish I could take a tour through the greatest rock concerts of all time, The Beatles, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, Ozzy, etc.
Concerts nowadays are either so over the top they suck or are just abjectly horrible in their own right. Hmmm, there was going to be a point to this post but I lost track after Aerosmith. On a possibly related note, I hope Nickelback gets mugged, beaten, raped and killed as they leave the Olympic Stadium tonight.

Cassette

I was laying here, in my bed, in the dark, staring up at the T-shirt tacked to my ceiling and listening to 'Slow Ride' by Foghat when it hit me; cassette tapes are the pinnacle of musical technology. Mp3's and CD's are just cookie-cutter storage devices, you can put anything in them, they're stale. The tape is perfect, its a little package of music in a sleek plastic case, built for one purpose only. Tapes are aesthetically pleasing, they fit in the palm of your hand, and they're just more satisfying to plop into a stereo. I'm not knocking my iPod, I'd die without it but I really love the Walkman as well, and I never appreciated a car stereo more than when I first plunked 'Hunky Dory" by David Bowie into the Bronco's tape deck.
Anyway, it just amazes me that my favorite invention came decades before my birth.

Amputee

Just saw 'Requiem for a Dream' for the first time a day or so ago, seriously changed my thinking around. Its truly a great movie, top notch in the freaky category as well. If you haven't seen it, I seriously recommend that you watch it, at least once. Also, if you intend on sleeping at all, don't watch it at night.
I fell asleep after watching it and embarked on the most hellishly terrifying nightmare I've ever had. Suffice it to say that its a movie better watched around noon.
Anyhow, I thought it time for another Top Five, I've actually got two today that I thought were interesting:
First, my Top Five Most Played Songs on iTunes

1. First Day of My Life -Bright Eyes
2. Little Boxes -Death Cab For Cutie (Originally by Woodie Guthrie, the version covered is by Pete Seeger)
3. What I Got -Sublime
4. What Sarah Said -Death Cab For Cutie
5. The Sound of Settling -Death Cab for Cutie

As you can see, I listen to quite alot of Death Cab, which I don't particularly see as a problem.
Second, my Top Five Movies with Comedians in Serious Roles (what a mouthful)

1. The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind -Jim Carrey as a social recluse in a damaged relationship, who turns to self induced amnesia to forget his woes.
2. The Pursuit of Happyness -Will Smith as a severely down on his luck father in new york tries to make a life for his son
3. Reign Over Me -Adam Sandler as a grief struck man who lost his family in the 911 attacks becomes the focus of attention for one of his long-lost friends.
4. Lost in Translation -Bill Murray plays an exasperated actor stuck in an airport when his flight gets canceled, romantic tension with Scarlet Johansson ensues.
5. Dan in Real Life -Steve Carrell as a recently single man who meets the perfect woman on his way to a family reunion, technically a comedy, but Carrell's role is much more serious, quite like his role as a suicidal, gay Proust scholar in 'Little Miss Sunshine".

Little Miss Sunshine

Such an amazing movie, I'm not sure what I'd have done without Dwayne's vow of silence. He introduced me to Neitzche, while Uncle Frank redefined suffering. Its amazing how a good movie can change your wold view. On a side note, this is one of two unbelievably sad movies with 'sunshine' in the title, go figure.
I realized I hadn't done a Top Five in quite a while, so here's my Top Five songs for Angsty, Jaded, World-Weary, and above all, Sarcastic Teens:

1. Telescope Eyes -Eisley (original edit, if it doesn't make you punch a wall in frustration, you've got the wrong one)
2. Learning The Game -Leo Kottke ( Similarly, grown men weep when this song is played. I've seen it.)
3. Sudden Death in Carolina -Brand New (not so much sad as a translation of numb fury put into sound-waves, listen to the beat, it just... carries you away, then the lyrics... just...listen.)
4. Its Cool, We Can Still Be Friends -Bright Eyes ( The first of two hard Hitters by Bright Eyes, the pain and cold, sickening misery are enough to dwarf any you've experienced before)
5. First Day of My Life -Bright Eyes ( The second Bright Eyes masterpiece, required because if any song ever written could lift your spirits after hearing such a profusion of misery and frustration, this is it, the most perfect love song ever conceived of in our generation)

That turned out to be a much darker list than I intended... at least its a step in the right direction.

Being Petty

I love it how people only read the posts I don't give a shit about, but never seem to remember the ones that mean something to me.

Life, Love and Lemons

...And now for something completely different:

I was wondering, what makes two people love eachother? I understand how one person can love another, but why do people fall in love with eachother? Is it random chance? Luck? If we can love eachother, why do we fall in love with people who will never reciprocate.
I wish that we only fell for people who would love us back, but it doesn't work that way. So much pain and frustration could be avoided if we just knew, innately, who we were meant to be with.
Or, I suppose, if they knew that they were supposed to be with us.

100 More Confessions

1. I romanticize mental disorders because it makes me feel special
2. I really love it when people think I'm over 18
3. It hasn't happened since I was 12 (go figure)
4. Since getting my license, I've turned out to be kind of a speed freak
5. I'm really missing some folks right now, but I'm not sure how to approach them without seeming creepy
6. I don't like the number six
7. I failed Spanish even though Yo entiendo mas mejor del todo de mis companeros en la escuela que no estan hispanohablantes naturales
8. I wish I spoke Russian, but only because it would justify saying "I love you" in Russian, which sounds badass
9. I'm finally being proactive with my life and its made me broke once again
10. I need a job, but I can't get one til I do better in school
11. I need money to take care of my problems, allowing me to focus
12. I'm failing in school because I'm distracted by my real problems (seeing a pattern?)
13. I really love 'cuties', those little clementine oranges.
14. I hate that my name sounds stupid with any foreign accent
15. Incense calms me to the point of catharsis
16. I really love the beach, I grow slowly more insane the longer I'm away from it
17. I'm afraid that I'm settling for a less prestigious college, even though its where I really want to go
18. Then again, who says anyone'll take me?
19. Ask me why and I'll explain to you exactly why the education system is failing America's youth
20. I'd do anything to know that I'm still smarter than my friends, but I know its not true anymore
21. I like sitting on cliffs and rooftops, anyplace high up where land meets the sky
22. Meditation really does do amazing things
23. I started hurting myself again, I really am terribly uncreative
24. My art has died along with my hopes of photojournalistic fame
25. and that, I can squarely blame you for
26. I'm a much happier person than I've ever been before
27. I'm also much more depressed than ever before
28. I guess I'm just more bipolar than ever
29. The complete narcissism of this endeavor is baffling
30. I've finally accepted The Beatles as the official soundtrack of my adolescence
31. Climbing trees terrifies me, but I love being in them
32. Mountains are my mind's home, but my body lives in the flattest region of the Earth
33. 1/3rd of the way there
34. I name everything after The Beatles but all of my stuff named 'Ringo' is named for my old dog
35. I wonder how much more interesting my life would be if I had seizures
36. When I'm bored, I've started picturing what everyone in the room looks like when they have an orgasm
37. Still a virgin, I'm considering auctioning off my v-card to the hottest bidder
38. Even though I know how they work, kaleidoscopes never cease to amaze me
39. I use old friends as an instruction guide for life
40. I wonder if maybe there is an afterlife, and I'm in it, being lightly punished for some crime I committed in life
41. When a car I'm riding in stops, I have an urge to tear off my belt, throw open the door and sprint away without warning, for no reason at all
42. is the answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything
43. is not
44. I despise swimming pools, but I love playing in the surf
45. Tidepools are like little universes that I can observe like some kind of deity
46. I sometimes think that no one else has thoughts and my life is difficult because I do
47. I wish my conversations went as smoothly as movie dialogue
48. I wish my family would just cease to exist after I leave home, so I wouldn't have to worry about them finding out about my life
49. My newly emerging work ethic was crushed along with my handmade glider
50. Halfway, how interesting
51. I secretly judge people based on their fashion choices
52. I wish it was acceptable to wear a robe in public
53. I'm trying to be less profane, but its no going very fucking well
54. I got tired of changing sheets so I put all of them on the bed at once and peel them off in layers
55. I think Marijuana is a beautiful plant, like nature's ephemeral sculpture
56. I'm becoming a bizarre fusion of my Father, my maternal Grandfather and several personality disorders
57. I own the most beautiful guitar ever made and I still can't play it
58. But I've gotten my shit together and I'm taking lessons
59. I really enjoy the look on northerners faces when they realize I'm from Texas
60. I want to learn how to snowboard but I lack both mountains and snow
61. I have a spider-sense-like sensation when drugs or alcohol are nearby
62. I don't like guns but I kind of want to own one just because I like the idea of intimidating an intruder
63. I want to learn to fence but those white outfits look so lame I never signed up
64. Part of me, deep down, still believes in magic
65. The longest conversation on one topic I've had for months was about Pokemon
66. Oh, and one about how Neitzche's theory of the Ubermensch applied to Che Gueverra and his revolutionary tactics
67. I often look at a map of Antarctica and imagine what it would be like if it were an inhabitable continent
68. I haven't been truly happy, for healthy reasons since July of 2008
69. Dave Barry is my favorite columnist and he stopped writing as soon as I started reading the paper
70. I stopped eating french fries, but I dream about how salty and delicious they are
71. My Great Grandfather would be disappointed if he ever found out what happened to each of the knives he gave me
72. Come to think of it, I'm fairly sure he's gotten laid more times in the last year than I ever will
73. 94 year old players, its just wrong
74. I have a picture taken by my photography instructor where his thumb is visible in the picture
75. It makes me smile whenever I see it
76. I'm fairly sure there's a picture of a naked woman I drew in the third grade stuck behind my book case somewhere
77. is a very lucky number for me
78. I can stare at a lava lamp for hours and not get bored
79. I fully intend to develop a six-pack by this time next week
80. I hope that if I ignore it long enough, the leak causing a waterstain on my ceiling will go away on its own.
81. is 9 to the 2nd power
82. Since taking physics I analyze my force, velocity, trajectory, etc. everywhere I go
83. I wish music would never stop playing in the background of my life
84. My most treasured possessions cost 99 cents on iTunes
85. They were free on Limewire
86. there is a stain from a sticky toy brain on the ceiling of my kitchen
87. Girls only flirt with my when I A) don't know their name B) am unavailable or C) not in my home state
88. I always sort of hope that money will appear magically in my time of most need but it never does
89. Electrical sockets are slightly ridiculous
90. Monty Python changed how I think about art
91. I'm going die soon if my balance of boredom, numbness and masochism doesn't right itself
92. I like to collect things that would get me in trouble with authority because it makes me feel a little less boring
93. I feel like a shallow imitation of the person who the person I want to be with wants to be with
94. Yes, that statement was grammatically correct, work it out
95. Care-Bears scare the living shit out of me
96. Optimistic little quotes piss me off and make me want to crush someone's happiness out of spite
97. I suppose that makes me kind of a bad person
98. I still find anorexia, excessive eye makeup and Bipolar/ Borderline personality disorder incredibly attractive
99. I guess this is the end of this little misadventure, but one last thing:
100. I really just want everyone to know that even when I'm being narcissistic and defeatist, etc. I'm thinking of all of you, hoping you're okay and wishing good things upon you. I hope all of you live amazing, wonderful lives, free of sadness and regret. I love you and I hope you can learn from my mistakes.

Well Shit.

Single again. God, I'd forgotten how much this sucks. Come to think of it, no-one has ever broken up with me before, it's always been me whose gotten tired. Fuck.
Can't help but think back on all the girls I've been with, romantically and otherwise. I'm young, very young, but already I've spent a good deal of time with the fairer sex and not all of it has been pleasant.
I look at the pictures on the walls and realize that I was happy sometimes. There are a few women, though I hesitate to term them as such, who made me who I am today.
If it were not for these girls, I'd never have gone down the path to addiction, and likewise I'd never have broken the cycle. My philosophy on day to day life is still shaped by one week with the most amazing girl I've ever met.
Similarly, my thoughts on death stem from a span of time in the company of another girl who, it appears, has found her happiness at last.
A girl taught me to be savvy with business and not mix it with pleasure.
Another taught me to be relaxed, chilled out and mellow.
The girl who called me Jesus taught me everything I know about being who I am, a hippy-ass motherfucker. She bought me bandannas and taught me that it was okay to be a long-haired freak, and dove off the diving board with me, both of us wearing hemp headbands.
Her antithesis taught me about pain, how to use it, to express it, she taught me what it meant to feel.
Although I've only spoken with her in passing, a girl was the one who revived the music in me, who opened me up to experiencing song again.
I've mentioned her before, but memories of the one-week girl keep coming back. Fragments with a yo-yo, a laptop and a vibrant choker. Of skull beads and pink hair and laughing as we landed sour-patch kids on the roof of the adjacent building, of the beach and the sun and frozen equipment, of lusting after cameras and losing my shirt.
All of these women shaped me, and so did she. I'm not sure yet how, but it will come. It will come with time.

S.A.D.

Singles awareness day comin' up, big day for all the loners out there. For the first time, I won't be alone on the national day of mourning. Its an odd feeling actually, I have always hated Valentine's Day, still do in fact, but for the first time I can see what its about.
So, to all you singles out there, Have a good Singles Awareness Day, and to the rest of you, Meh.

Attention.

The object in your rear view mirror? the one that appears to be approaching at roughly double the speed of light? With the chrome and floodlights? Yeah, that's Me, I'm legal now. Bitches.

Slavic Kidney Explosion

Ugh, my head hurts. One Hellish night and some change has wreaked its havoc upon my body and mind. I need to get back into form, it used to be that I could last for days with no sleep and without slowing down. I'm getting stale.
I need sleep, desperately. I don't know how I'm going to cope with tomorrow, I'll just have to wait and see. Ugh, keyed up on Caffeine, my body decides to do strange, terrible things. My insides are still burning and my legs have tingled for hours now.
I'm 16 and already I'm looking back at the good ol' days. How jaded.
Sleep.

I don't understand the question

"When are you going to start taking life seriously?"

...Excuse me? I'm having difficulty choosing one of the many, many ways in which I could respond to your rudeness.

1. By what standard do you measure my seriousness?
2. What makes you certain that life is meant to be taken seriously?
3. Presumably you take your own advice, how has seriousness turned out for you? Hm?
4. When are you going to get your own life and stop getting vicarious thrills from mine?
5. What do you mean when? is there a time limit?
6. When are you?
7. What gives you the authority to judge my attitude towards my own life?
8. Mind your own damn business. Bitch.

Any of these work, and there's really no end to the possibilities. So pick one, and while you're at it, Shove it up your ass.

The Point

When you get really good at something, when you become the best, it loses all meaning. Say I were to become a great baseball pitcher. I pitch a perfect game every night, strike after strike, no exceptions. What is there, then, left to do? Nothing. Perfection is meant to be an unreachable goal, but what happens when you manage it?
There are people who live for no other purpose than to be the best. In recent years this trend has applied to education, Japanese and American parents pushing their children to be #1 in absolutely everything.
Another scenario, this one not so hypothetical: I am ranked #1 in the country grade-wise, president of the National Honor Society, leader of Academic decathlon, UIL participant, etc. ad nauseum. Say I have done all of these things, in preparation for some planned out future in which my complete superiority will be an asset. Then what? What do I have?
There are people like this, who live there lives with purely extrinsic motivation. They live to be the best, to prove that they are #1. They fill their days with studying, working, frantically memorizing. They glory in their own successes and the failures of their rivals. They have no friends, only temporary allies.
I ask you, What kind of life is that? Can they be truly happy? We will never know. They believe that they are happy, and who am I to disagree? But how can these people, these anomalies who have lived their lives in the pursuit, not of personal betterment, but of undisputed superiority, how can they know what happiness is? To be indoctrinated in this way is to ensure the lifelong success of your child, but also to forever deny them the knowledge of true, personal happiness.
Not once will they accomplish a feat or task merely because it makes them happy to do so, but only to receive the reward of dominance in the end.
I am eternally thankful that I am not the best. I feel that I have cheated the system. I know, deep within myself that I could be one of these people, that I was born for it, to be utterly superior to all my peers, but I am not. I am not one of these people, I am a human being. Imperfect, flawed, and all the same better for it. The horror of being so driven by extrinsic goals that I reached the final mountain peak of intellectual completion rocks my mind even as I struggle to comprehend what it would even mean. To be done with improving. It's unnatural.
The Point, I suppose, is that no matter how I, we, strive to be the best, to improve unto perfection, it isn't what we want. We want the struggle, the hunt for improvement. We cease to be Human when lose our need to be better. We lose that competitive spark that allowed us to beat out the other pathetic proto-humans and become Man.
Perfection, more than anything else in the realm of feasible expression, is death.

Broken

So much for trying not to be cynical, I hope you will excuse yesterday's fatalistic rant, I was not myself.

It's easy to forget about the beauty and wonder in the world sometimes. There really is a lot of love in the world; Mothers and daughters, Fathers and sons, Lovers, Friends, etc. ad infinitum.

Love is like magic, it's a force, created by life itself, flowing out and binding us all together. All of us have known its touch at some point, even the most un-lovable creature has witnessed affection in its time.

Sometimes the amount of love in your life will surprise you, just take a look around, I bet you'll see that you have more love around you than you know what to do with.

It comes from the most unexpected places; it could be an old, lost friend, or that guy who you always hang out with but who never really says much. It could be a stranger who you smile at in the hallway, or a role-model who sees them-self in you.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that, in my own, broken sort of way, I love you. Both as a collective and as individuals. I love who you are as well as what you represent. So I hope that you'll forgive my occasional rant, I mean well, even if I'm slightly damaged.

You know what sucks?

Everything.

Your life is there for the express purpose of being shit on by the Karmic Gods.
My life too for that matter.

Not one iota of happiness can exist without fucktons of misery falling in its wake. For every smiling child there are a dozen grieving mothers, standing over the stiff, cold corpses of their sons. There is so much sadness and hatred in the world it's tangible. You can feel it when you enter a room, the air is saturated with greed and bloodlust and petty hatred.

The whole world, from your kitchen table and those who sit at it, to the entire planet, and even the bits of space we've touched is tainted by the corrupting miasma of hate that is our miserable species.

I have lost all faith in humanity, There is no essential collective good. We are just sad little sacks of flesh, greedily hoarding our meager possessions, trying to starve out all the rest of the bastards in the same position.

When we aren't pulling shit onto our own heads, its being dumped onto us by the lousy, fetid cretins perched above us upon piles of human refuse.

There is no escape from the hatred, the loathing, the all-consuming plague.

May we all burn in hell.

I crave Chinese...

... I think I'll eat some.

Igby

I want what you've got, and you've got what I need. You want what I have, but you don't need it. They wish they had what we have but we don't want what they have or need what they have to give. I took it all and lost it. You found it and kept it for yourself. They never had it. You need what I'm selling, but I'm out of stock and I need what you have to make more. They like what you like but don't want it from me. We're all needy but know that the other "We all" will have what we need.

Call me Ishmael!

Have you ever wanted to write something meaningful and found that you have nothing to say? Apparently You're boring then.

If I want to be Him, but He doesn't want t be Him, can we trade? Of course not. Especially since He is also Me, but not Me.

I suppose I could be writing in a more sensible fashion but No one reads this anymore...

I want to fly. Maybe if I get really, very, truly smashed, inebriated to the point where I can no longer think, I can get outside of my own skull.

I need to be sedated.

Help.