Wednesday, July 7, 2004 3:28 PM
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"So, that stops the cycles in my mind. Which go something like this: 'gotta get money, gotta pay the debt, so much debt, not getting anything done, no doing the wrong things, need to listen to other people, need to call people, need to be personable when i call them, need to clear-headed then, need to get job, even though i don't think i will, then i'll call another, and then i won't get that one, and then i'll call another, and friends will come home, they will say, what's happening, what can i say, gotta make money, gotta pay the debt, wasting my life, wasting time, must do this immediately, even though you'll fail, you must do this now, now, now, you can't do it now, you must think of it now, so you will be ready when the time is now, so think, think, think, okay, who am i going to call...' Etc. etc. oh it goes on and on.
"It will not stop, it does not stop, it goes on and on because my family tells me that one needs to worry. Without worrying, things will not get done... How ludicrous, that's like faith in prayer. My mother tells me i should worry, my father tells me i should worry, my sisters say "everything's fine" and then they wonder why i got anxiety. [by the way, psych came thru on the meds] But that's funny... Hmm... I say to myself, no, i can't think of that, that's a buzzkill. And then, that reinforces the other thing i was told, not to waste. More importantly, i think that as well. Not to waste, which means, i have to not listen to the cycles. I know the cycles will return, as all highs do low. When I hear them again, i will have to act, as that is our way, we want to be everything. [guy just called, he will come by later] I figure that must be what my father gets when he drinks, to avoid the cycles, i don't know if alcohol is so much so dependant on avoiding buzzkills. Well, that's what makes it bad, is that it does avoid buzzkills quite well. but green doesn't. it can be very easy to kill your buzz. You have to have an, no pun intended, open mind."
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Hmm, i got 7 more minutes. "So that's the point. That's why they say that it's good for relieving stress. Because they always say, hell, i say it too, cause they all say it, and i believe it... But now, now i see why it works. Why I do it, for if it would just cause me more stress i would not like it. Of course, ideally--for some, not i, the creative soul, which is most endorsed by this--i'd be able to think, 'i don't want to buzzkill this lovely day.' But that's ludicrous, no people need to get their relaxation, and when they do they think the exact same thing 'i gotta enjoy it, or its not enjoyable.' But they'll do it while playing sports or video games. While i see that as a waste of time, nor strong enough to make such a difference, nor so dependant on me and my frame of mind for it to work, which is what makes it... Yes, good for stress."
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Wednesday, July 7, 2004 4:03 PM
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Friday, July 9, 2004 3:20 PM
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For, I actually had some money yesterday. Which I planned on spending today, on some green, so I could feel--anything. But the damn interview i went to on thursday said i will get drug tested, if I get so far in the candidate process, though I seem to be the only one wanting this job. Who knows though, as I am pretty sure I'm fucking myself over, somehow. I'm so tired...
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I want to go back to sleep... But I remember how much I disliked it when the CFA would sleep, and not even look for a job. And she had no degree to say, "well, should I do another dead-end job, to pay the rent, barely, if that, until it's taken away, for it's not a job that requires a degree, ergo, my being intelligent means nothing if I don't speed when taking my deliveries..." Or I don't know what... I feel like such an immense failure. I really don't want to live. Because, why? I'll just get another shitty job. Another shitty job that won't care how hard I work, or how smart I am. And my writing, oh, the world can probably do without it.
DAMN CYCLES, won't shut up. Won't shut up... They keep going... And I'm going mad... I can't take much more.
Friday, July 9, 2004 4:05 PM
Sunday, July 11, 2004 1:30 AM
I guess I can take a bit more... But I'm still grey. Lord, am I grey. And the withdrawl, is gone. I am truly in the sober world now.
The cycles have gotten a bit quieter. I'm finally able to listen to music again. And I'm surviving. Only because I know that is all I'm allowed: survival.
No TV, no video games... Just survival.
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Still, if I get this job, that I "want"--and I don't. I only want it for my housemates, I am sacrificing for them, surviving for them. I am only living to pay my debt--at least, I feel that way often. Full paragraphs, this isn't me. This is the old me. I am back to highschool. My mind is the same now as it was then. 5 years ago... No, 7... Damn, these green years... I loved em. But I... Oh, don't get ahead of myself, I'm not quitting, no way, not by a long shot. If I was to be like this forever? I'd be fucking insane. But I'm going into overdrive, I need to get it together... Cause the cycles say I must.
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Sunday, July 11, 2004 1:53 AM
Tuesday, July 13, 2004 5:06 PM
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Why is it everyone has a good job but me? Because I am useless, clearly.
Nobody cares, or they do, but they can't do anything about it, it seems. For
I do not want charity, I want security. I want a fucking job. Something where
I can do something and people will pay me, for only I can do it. Another saltine...
Why am I even alive...
I'm not even caring about who this "scares" for I am almost positive no one listens any more. …
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everyone has a good job, everyone meets their potential, if they go the right route, it seems. which starts with education, and i did that, and now, i expect something from it, and nothing is forthcoming, so i feel i missed the route. i took the wrong one, i can't find the right one... and i wait for ... i wait.
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i'm tired and listless and i can't sleep so what would be the point of going to lie in bed, so my mind can race and say more horrible things about me, that if it were coming from anyone else, I wouldn't be able to stand talking to them, i'd have to avoid them. how has my lineage lasted this long? for i feel it must be a curse that is passed from father to son. this feeling of uselessness. my father is not a writer, but the few things i have found, just in cleaning clutter he would never clean, for my mother's sake... they show how disgustingly similar our thoughts can be, he writes "i cant' get anything done. i must do things better. i can't keep wasting my time." and yet, he spent so much time telling me I should do things better, why? so i can feel like just as much of a failure?
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Tuesday, July 13, 2004 6:11 PM
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Friday, July 16, 2004 10:40 AM
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I can't take this kind of rejection. Especially when it comes so smile-faced. Oh, we'll be making our decision by the end of the week. Please... Why not just say "thanks, sorry to make you wear a suit and shave, but it's not going to happen."
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…have I not said how many times I didn't really want this job?
I'm just unhappy for my housemates, as i wanted something secure. …
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Friday, July 16, 2004 10:55 AM
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Friday, August 6, 2004 5:20 AM
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i just want to crawl into a cacoon and die...
but, luckily, i'll have something to do tomorrow. assuming my car doesn't explode. as it was out of oil, just yesterday... and that wasn't good. and if i have a leak... whatever, i'm used to relying on the piece of shit for transportation in worse conditions than this, and ... have i ever mentioned how the emergency brake doesn't ... well, i don't want to, i'm still slightly paranoid. of the secret society out to get me that reads everything i write.
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some work will be nice. i think so. i'm horrible, at finding people to "accept me" and give me money. i don't get it, and probably never will. i'm too... unusual. Did your houses have people running in and out and visitors all the time? Well, mine didn't. My mom had god, my dad the bottle, my sisters each other, and i ... my writng.
we didn't have visitors. how could i bring someone back to that. whatever. whatever whatever i don't want to think about all the horrible thoughts going through my head now as i come down and know its the bottom i'm staying...
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fuck it, i want to be antisocial, i want to enter my tomb, and return a butterfly.
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Friday, August 6, 2004 6:32 AM
Sunday, August 8, 2004 1:20 PM
i feel things are a little different today. just a little different.
but in an important way.
i just filed for unemployment. and after i finish this greenroom entry, i will be finishing my cover letters and updating my resume.
and, for one, i feel different.
i mean, its not just today, its been coming on the last few weeks. i wasn't planning on growing up until 26.
i was planning on quote-end-quote enjoying 25. but what's the enjoyment of years of instability? of not having money? of not being anything or doing anything?
aye. i got a lot of art done. no question. but i must finish. this is true. finishing is art too.
finishing is necessary, its been too long. yes, too long.
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even if i'm feeling "eh" cause i'm coming down, or i'm feeling "good" and i gotta record, or whatever, or i'm feeling "shit" cause i ain't got none at all and i'm not planning on getting more. It's all the same. And unimportant. that does not effect what i can do. i can still do anything, more so than if it was an a) or b) of something else. but even if it was something else, hell, i could probably handle it with this mindset--luckily, it won't be something else.
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i just kinda, needed to write down the patheticism of my own mind, to make me listen to myself. and be as completely truthful about the lowest of my mind, and the mind at the lowest is the closest to the ground, and you gotta know where the ground is.
no more of this, aw, my friends have all the good, dream jobs. no more of this, waa, they are enjoying their life and their money, and i can't. i dare say it might make me better at poker. seems silly, but now that i've finally done the unemployment, i'm almost sure i'll be getting employed.
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i feel i almost can't explain it. but its an active mindset, it requires active participation on my part. if i need to remind myself, i will, and each time i do, it helps, its amazing, like, i'm not worried that i'm going to be tired out from all this writing. i know i will write these cover letters and fix my resume and hell who knows how much else i'll get done, just today. in fact, if i don't do that, i'll make a point of saying so here.
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Sunday, August 8, 2004 2:54 PM
Friday, August 13, 2004 6:31 PM
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and now to go outside... in the rain. with the dramatics.
so many things to do this weekend. with no people. no people, god damn am i sick of people.
i've had to deal with like, over 10 strangers or theresabouts (in number and strangerness) in this week, these last two days, for that matter. and then there's that damn cell phone. that damn son of bitch won't ever shut up.
it may sound crazy... but i wanna go outsiiide...
i feel like recording, i feel shitty enough. but what is shitty but a term for all of my life... oh, don't get me wrong, goddamn did i need this, i really appreciate it, and i won't wish it wasn't. and that's important, i am glad to be this much. but still.
i do appreciate the help, with the temp work, and that's fucking cool and all that. but whatever, fucking a, fucking a. i fucking a. i feel so ... goddamn... i wonder... no i don't want to check. i don't want to look at anything. fuck i..t...
but i must feel this disgust. this pain. for it will propell me when i feel it still. the more i will feel like shit, the more i will remember my resolve, and the more i will not . damn, i'm tired.
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Friday, August 13, 2004 6:47 PM
Sunday, August 15, 2004 2:56 AM
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my god it annoys me so. the females, how they appear and entice me so. i'd rather just stay at home, i need not these temptations.
all i need is the Temptations, to get by, a little marvin gaye, maybe some luther, i'm just a loser... a lonely old man.
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i mean, really, what do i want women for? the company? No, i don't want no damn company period. i want ot be alone, i need to be alone, i'm not getting to be as alone as i want to be, i just want to be completely utterly, i mean, not a soul, alone. and there's other people, boring. i don't need them. and then there's these girls, these girls in particular, the ones i think about, the ones i want to make passionate intercourse with. fucking a, they're such fucking annoying, lord, like cigarette smoke all around when you're really jonesin' and you don't have your patch. or when you just hook it up, and you have so much! you must. and there's so many other examples.
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Sunday, August 15, 2004 3:58 AM
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Wednesday, August 18, 2004 1:53 AM
am i green? yes i am green, where my primetime? a hardworking man like myself can't be without patches. but i was. and now. now i feel like... whatelse? recording. And this weekend... i'm going to do the album work. the work this week has done much in the area of time drainage to r&r. i get home and i just want to be wrong. and its good. i do deserve it. but i ain't gonna get anywhere that way.
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its not against the mindset. the video games, those i played today, against the mindset. the mindset has worked well at work. but now i want to record, and its not against, and so i can. to the take i've given. oh, i got to upload an orhythm while i'm at it. certainly not an extremely wasteful use of my time, like these last few hours when i never got anywhere near a high score.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004 2:04 AM
Wednesday, August 18, 2004 11:54 PM
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i've been working, that's good. when i got the job, then its really good. then i can see about something. or maybe.
i'm bputting out the vibes, but no real bait, not out to catch anything nothing i can't eat. oh i'd eat it, i' just don't like having to coak the fish to bite. worm. which laysupon a sharp hook, a hook of deception, i must deceive for a bite. to eat and be eaten. like a cicrle of darwin life fishes that are perpetually trying to eat the other.
smoke a little ganj, as i wait for the zol to kick in... ah, the vapes are going. they are going.
… ithink of a lot of girls. must be spring again. i'm especially seasonal in that way. but of course, i partly waited till the first scents of a good worm work, whatave you. i like how there was a magazine in the office, so nice to work in one, btw, it was a mag on best jobs, saying creative sure ain't, and that what i was not doing but assisting in doing, and potentially ultimately doing, is indeed a lucrative and i think secure career. that requires a bit of sense and attention to detail, not like anyone can excell in it. but that's the not the poin.t …
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and there's these other girls, its spring, nad s doing things to me that histimines aren't blocking or are blocking or i don't know. perhaps thepheromones are in full effect. i just noticed it though. before even this temp work, i mean, its not secure, i odn't normally get too optimistic if it means i might have shift lowerning.
i have no idea what i was taling about. …
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hah, oh, such is the ease of it all for me and the fact is, there's much to there that area out there, and i did some tomeday, and i must do something everyday. and this weekend more, and every hour squeezed. time is shorter thanever. i'me older younger than i ever thought i'd be. and yet, here i am. but i'm really only off by about 6 months. but it might be a cresting thing. or troughing. who knows, i don't care to downshift fast, is all.
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Guy said, you You get a job an guarantee you g'll get a agrilfriend." and i thought about that, and i don't know about that. i don't want them to take up my money or my time. and i think especially teh time if i actually be able to have the money that attracks them without it even being spen-t--something about the gravitational effect of piles of money.
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…i think that's the zoloft, god i am tired, nad the vapes finished long ago, nad i've doen so much writing, i feel so
that's all there's to it.
okay, gotta open them to time stamp then its snores by the scores. okay, i still i'l only get like ug... i peaked an ieye open, i need more hours than that.
Thursday, August 19, 2004 0:57 AM
Friday, August 20, 2004 11:40 PM
they want me to come in on monday. yay. my pops gots some possible tech writing things too, i'll check it out, and this weekend i gotta help the last friend who helped me out. and then i can do some work on the albums... busy good. always good.
compared to poor. i'm not yet out of that. but i'm starting to relax a bit, watching kojak tonight, played video games last night, and i think i'll play a few more...
Friday, August 20, 2004 11:44 PM
Saturday, August 21, 2004 0:32 AM
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all the parts of a long email i'd cut out. that's what i'm just getting rid of here. stuff about how much i want to see her, cause i'm so insanely enamored with the idea of an intelligent, attractive woman chilling and smoking withme, and perhaps giving me just a little, jusenough. and perhaps i could make her think my way, and mabye... or whatever. cause you kno,w i suppose, a s time goes on... and maybe she won't.... respond, that is...
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Saturday, August 21, 2004 1:05 AM
Wednesday, August 25, 2004 0:23 AM
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…people can be stupid, not like my last employer but the stupid retail shit before... ug... i hate customer service. i have such a step up with total pontential, for that position is a well paying one, with lots of advancement, and i've already done so well there, you know finishing work that had seriously piled up, and i'm again, a fucking hard worker, i don't do anything but work, and if there isn't any, i try to find it, as this is office work, and i've never had a chance to do any, as i've never had any experience.
i also find it kindof humorous, about once a day i help with some computer-related thing. its so nice to actually be useful for being computer literate at a job. I was explaining to my coworker whom i work with the whole http:// versus https:// thing because she couldn't figure out why the page wasn't loading. it's my friend's mom, my friend, and this other girl--it's cool though, as i prefer working with women, at least i enjoyed that at the retail. and further, the entire bottom floor is like estrogen-overload, it's like 90% ... more than, there's two other guys as far as i know... some cute ones working in the adjacent office (women that is).
I think it's cool, though, how my car is the shittiest in the parking lot.
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but hey, cse la vie la guerre e l'amour todo es mismo, el carazon y las almas son los cuerpos muertos del piso, es un miraglo que i still get up in the morning. oh shit, i have to do that.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004 1:04 AM.
Monday, August 30, 2004 10:56 PM
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and i've been doing a shitty job on some of my personal relations. But on others i'm doing okay. and i can't confess to be too brokenhearted. not now that i have a path. and a good one.
i have full-time work, and on top of that, its training for something that will definitely definitely support me so i may continue my artistic endeavors. anyone who quits artistry before they die, was never an artist. and if they didn't exagerate with flourish, then they didn't matter.
anyway, i'm feeling... a mix sense. now i feel i can finally bring her back in my life, and she doesn't want in. and the rest... i'm lukewarm, i just wanna get on my feet. start making more payments, let the weeks go by, with each i feel that much more secure, as i have proved myself useful these last few weeks. and i will continue to do so. an office job, finally. every job has been a step up. i at least have only been going up in employment.
ironically i already feel at the top of art. art is... not such a thing...
green is the color of my blog, is the color of my skies. is the color of the moon and the sunshine and father's day ties. and i felt like it, writing pointless. i do it. i don't care.
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she was such a joy to embrace, to flitter with a hand the effuviance of redemptive clarity. that, btw, means nothing, just nonesense. but since it all feels so nonsensical, a lot feels appropriate, just by not being so. or correct. at least. i don't suppose i'll ever record that song i wrote 4 weeks ago. oh you want to hear it? oh, why not.
[the chorus "But the lord knows" is a paraphrase from ... where is it... Ah, "That's How It Is (When You're in Love)" by Otis Clay, to be sung the same way--but that's only for the chorus]
I know I said
that you had done me wrong
I know I said
I wish I hadn't written you that song
I know I said
I can't stand for you to be untrue
I know I said
that I wouldn't have done that to you
But the lord knows I love you
always thinking of you
but I can't help myself, oooh no, I can't help myself
Please don't look down on me
Because I'm weak
When you're in love, it's easy to be
I said come back and cry if you choose to
But I know that if I don't try I might lose you
My ego and pride, has been broken and bruised
I don't care if you lied, I don't care if I've been used
The lord knows...
You could be the love that I've searched for
The love that I'm willing to hurt for
Out the door not out of my heart
This can't be the reason that we part
The lord knows...
anyway, that could well be the last song i write for her. i will survive this. i do not overly dramatize the comings and goings of man-woman strife. i need to sleep, for tomorrow i have to work, which i am very glad to get to do. and now, now i can perhaps enjoy my money with a girl, but my mind is on her, and it'll pass. i guess i just hold on... well, hell, might as well let the world know. if she cares theres still time... but i'm not going to fool myself.
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and i know this has clearly slowed my progress on the albums i wanted to do. but ... well, i can go back to that. i still am productive on a day to day, outside the office basis. if i don't make some art i'll go crazy, and there's a few hours for that before i need to sleep and face the work with a good disposition, for i needed this badly. and now i'm proving myself, every day.
Besides, I've always known that I am a pretty good catch--with a job. i'm smart, not fat not ugly, and nice--maybe not... the most ... normal of people. but that'll be no concern, not for what i'm looking for. and what is that? its easy to find when i need it not and i want it not and i suppose then it will but i--am sick of myself.
so, there goes that train of thought. damn dryer is going still... its actually my laundry this time, i can't go another day recycling the necessity. mm... tomorrow... clean underwear... oh well, my zol has kicked in, i'm fucking hitting the hey is for horses.
Monday, August 30, 2004 11:49 PM
Tuesday, August 31, 2004 7:18 PM
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i mean, seriously, i'm a little weird, tis true. but what would your life be without it? so many normal borings. and i want to do some more of the things i've already shown you can be more than.
He has a writing style not unlike a young someoneyou'veneverheardof. Of course these are worksyouneverheardof, before he made the worksyouveheardofinpassingconversationmaybenopeneverheardofem.
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damn, i already know how it would go. i can compose it almost easily enough. i can't send it, so might as well...
its just the fucking greenroom.
dear my dear,
I already know i'm not going to say the right thing. But if I kept myself from trying, I'd not have gotten as far as I have. And I've tried, and I've gotten farther than i'd usually expect. but i deserve it: not having said the right thing the first time, that is. the way i try to say it... Am I trying hard enough?
scratch. fuck that.
Dear,
ah fuck it. Mad Lads. By The Time I Get To Phoenix.
I just listened to it. It gave me a new resolve. i came back to her the last time. and the time before. I gotta either record this song myself or make that abum. cause i gotta get somewhere. somewhere far.
yeah, too bad, i wrote beautiful things for her. maybe not all the songs were beautiful but they were all heartfelt. i've got "By The Time I Get To Phoenix" on repeat now.
oh, i love it. by the time i get to phoenix... she'll be risin... such a beautiful version of this song--no offense to Issac.
i'll be a musician, and i'll have tho world to love and recieve love from. i never really needed any one person, or a lot of people, only myself, and one cat. then i'm set. oh and a pen, and a pad... of course... then i'm a happy lad--i can at least remember that lyric.
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cause so easily, yes, easily, for the brain is hard pressed to think of betters in a non-hypothetical wholistic sense. And not upon some self-inflicted statards, to make the mind more at ease with the direction of affection. but the cruelest of societies, the ones most insisted upon as not being important by the non-possessors. And these possessors rarely--and never as much as she--have the combination of possessed and envied by the non-possessors with only a few possessions, distilled to three. they have two, they have one more often... so what, do i go looking over the twos now?
no... i'll wait. Maybe the twos can work on becoming threes. And ones probably have no idea they're just no where near medal contention. but maybe ones will become twos, and the twos will become threes, and the threes will disappear as threes do... as they do... but there's not that many. no... not that many.
and who's a three and what's a two and where's first or is it who's on...whatever. i miss her, she made me feel good. whatelse do you want? i'd want more, obviously, and she made me feel more too, what more do you want? anyway, i'm still listening to by the time i get to phoenix. cause i gotta take my leave one of these days. i can only write this letter so many times. for how else would she believe it. "She didn't know" "She just didn't want to know..." But if (t)he(y) keep writing it, one of these days, i'm going to be in phoenix and she cares... then she cares...
or maybe... i'm not doing this right. good. i don't want right. i don't want to write for anyone anything i choose to do wrongly. no i'll write about doing it wrongly, that's just not rightly. i'm not over her. i need her to make the move though. and i don't know... when will she see it? When will she do it? If weeks go by, and this goes farther and farther into the top and buried in the blog, or maybe sectioned off, then when will she it, when if ever? what makes you so sure she's checking it everyday? and when she gets it... when that happens what happens nothing happens... until its a wrong time for it to happen, as that's when it always happens.
i hear people outside, i'll pop my head out... ... maybe... i don't know... okay. later. suckers, you read all that.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004 8:26 PM
Wednesday, September 1, 2004 2:54 AM
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But there's also, and i say this as it becomes more clear that my only chance will be to go to her directly, but you can see how conflicted i am... Anyway, since I don't think she's reading... She's not going to read unless she cares, and if she cares, how could she not then email? Anyway, she's probably going to become a drinker, anyway. Oh, they all do... Practically. I can't think of many men, let alone women, hell, i can't really say i know of any women, and men, i only know one person, whom i met for a brief moment when i was at this girl's house, and never since, and only because we had a short conversation of our father's and the imbibery and how we both avoid it. Other than that, i've never heard anyone say with the resolve i have, well, like the song by the Nightingales "i don't want to be like my" well, him. And she... Got to taste those tasty german beers. And i have no doubt in my mind--not to say anything about her, but just all of man and woman kind who seem to be incapable of "hooking up" or making any first moves without first being moved by some quicker liquor. i'm willing to bet a hundred bucks that some alcohol was consumed with each of the guys.
yeah, its a pretty big hypothetical bet, but i got years and years and years of experience. i don't know if i can't blame the bottle and extoll the green, but its always the cause of the problems. Like its needed for any women to get brazen enough, blazen enough ain't enough. And then they get drunk, and they get fucked, and it's all something i have so little respect for. And finally, they get fat. Because, to quote Jethro Tull--it's a song that perhaps goes through my mind the most of all the ones that got me through highschool--where's my damn harmonica, btw, i'll find it later... i hope... "Don't want to be the fat man, people would think that i was just good fun, rather be the thin man, i am so glad to go on, being one." He then says its too much to carry around with you, but i think you can find a woman (yeah, another fat woman, or a woman looking for a fat wallet or something fat and grotesque somehow) who'll love you in the nighttime too. Fucking drinkers fucking it up for me, the smoker... and she's still on the cigs, she's doing all kinds of shit i don't need. i still just want a girl who wants to smoke. and nothing else. but talk, intelligently, and be attractive. if she's not out fucking eating food at restaurants/establishments, and instead spending each sparable dime not on such useless things as food but the smokage. and she's not getting drunk a couple nights a week, or every night a week, for smokers who smoke everyday... well, they drink at least a few times a week. they can't seem to be that right mix of too smart to get with the really bad stuff, but not too smart to get with the fun stuff.
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Wednesday, September 1, 2004 3:22 AM
Saturday, September 4, 2004 2:37 AM
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…i've had like 3 hours of sleep a night 4 of the last 5 nights. and i'm being robbed again of sleeping in cause then i get to help another friend move all day. and i got friends up the wazoo calling me and shit and emails i haven't responded too, and i frankly am to the point where i don't know where to even start with catching up on relations… … so... expect that i'll be busy, probably writing, cause i'm not used to having to squeeze hours out of the day so i can write…
…
eh, i gotta wake up now... in about 8 hours... WHY!! i so wanted to sleep in. Who needs sleep? I need sleep, I'm fucking up all the time now, i get all short tempered or maybe i get frustrated or maybe i just get tired. yeah, tired... and i wanted so much to just go to bed and just fall into bed and close my eyes and know that i was able to sleep sleep sleep sleep. and not have to wake up and not have to... It's like my life was really quite easy to manage, and still is, but not with keeping up my art and working 40 hours a week. i can't do all three. and if i can't fuck it. i'd always rather have art than a life. …
now i'm tired, and i have to think about waking up, again. in the morning. … but i'll have guilt around me, more guilt, more stress, and i can't have too much on my plate, that's what i was talking about. i need to simplify. The mentality? The "regardless I can do it" mentality? Yeah, well, i said it would make me self-involved, and i don't give a shit. as it is, i'm already losing a little bit on the mentaility. but its still going pretty strong considering how much i want to relax. But as long as i keep it contained. to a simple life of art and work, and fuck the rest, for i must make time for SLEEP. god i miss sleep so much... i've become such an ass, maybe, maybe it comes from needing to be antisocial off the clock for i have to be somewhat social ALL DAY on the clock. and it drives me... NO. no... i won't let it. my mindset is strong, my friends must wait, for i must survive, and i'm too tired to laugh, nor sigh, nor whatever else i was thinking of saying, god i'm tired. i want to cry, but i'm too tired for that as well. i'm too tired, even, to go to sleep. Too many coils to completely shuffle, lord i'm tired. tired.
sleep is not overrated. it is abused in excess. But overrated? No. The sun, the daytime, the goddamnit his flight is so fucking early, they are extremely overrated. And I must keep the mindset, for i am not a man of the day, i must fight for the night. That'll take more than just survival. And it'll probably mean even less friends. But fuck it. God i'm tired. And even less chance for romance, but even better, still fuck it. i work my ass of when i'm at work, cause i'm figuring if i'm going to be wasting these precious hours i could be using to make good art, or sleeping so i can actually make good art when i do have time, i might as well work them to the limit. Still, not enough respect, not enough money, must work harder, there is progression, seriously potential. all good things, but must keep the plate clear for refillings, I don't fuck around at work, i work at work, i come home i play, i play alone, cause i like it that way, and its the only way that manages to leave me with anything at the end of the day, and since i'm sure some friend will require something of me in the day, i'm going to lose out on any chance of even 6 hours... when's his fucking flight again? 11:15? Wants to leave here at 10:30? i'll get 7.5, and that's only if .. its probably soemithng else what iwth time for, and i need to take my, and i'm so tired, didn't i? and god, shoot me. But only god, no one else no emissaries or prophets. i'm running low, and for, what, the 4th or 5th time today i've stressed about whether or not i'll get refills, i should call her tonight... okay, i'm not to tired to whimper. i'm going to lay in bed, i think i'll manage to sleep, and fuck setting my alarm. he said he'll wake me. if he doesn't its his own damn fault for caring.
But i don't know, i feel no one appreciates completely, but that i can't even tell anyone, for i'm a whining bitch. see how it works so well? i just... want... to be left alone. and it would be so nice, to just be alone. and asleep. god damn am i tired. and i don't even get to hit the pillow with that happy thought of lovely lovely indefinite sleep, callous and rough is the world, tired and lost is my diction, i'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo well, i'm too tired to.
Saturday, September 4, 2004 3:07 AM
…
Tuesday, September 21, 2004 6:36 PM
…
Now that i'm writing, i can't very well quit... oh, so tempting, pack another and continue. after all, i'm sectioning off, it's kinda like tying one off. the end of two months of torture with a month that went pretty well and quickly. i love being a master of my own future. which is what i am in my current situation, where i get to determine if i keep succeeding, i simply need to keep working, every day, even when i'm in pain, like only recently, i make progress, making progress in an area no one else had, i'll be getting the results, making conjecture reality. Doing that man thing of build, create, succeed.
…
Anyway, my petty, and probably ridiculous, concerns aside, things are remarkably good right now. Some things are getting pushed to the wayside, a bit, for i am driven on a forward course, on such a nice progression, and i do expect quick returns, and i can do both... i've been producing at least in the new section, and in other forums, and its been a good month. let me tell yeah, it must have been for i didn't bother here. and i have a bother, or else, perhaps i wouldn't...
…
Thursday, September 23, 2004 10:06 PM
…
i think i'll just take my zoloft. i'm not in the mood to smoke, and rather than get myself into it, well, i'll just take the therapy this gives me until it hits. cool, i found a generic welbutrin on the floor.
that takes care of tomorrow.where's my damn zoloft... my room's a mess, i'm tossing that broke-ass tv, and i'm uh... setting up my speakers, and i'm getting these ants, and i'm doing my laundry, and i'm finishing cleaning, and i'm going to get my car fixed (even though, good news, just brake lights, not oil, whew, and even then, i don't know if they are really out, just heard one guy, maybe i just don't want to know). and then i suppose i'll have my shit together, oh right, i'll also be getting that even better job, because i'm not going to be complacent, and i'll do it while sitting in a tub the entire time.
right.
…
Thursday, September 23, 2004 10:38 PM
Saturday, September 25, 2004 6:29 PM
…
didn't like that color anyway. No, it's good how it is. Definitely good. yay, 141. but i'm running low on redbull, and in a few days, i'll have to see her, and i'll have to give her my cd, unless, i end up going to another different smart and final, but the problem is that i have to do this, or i won't have the space i need, really, to copy over my songs from c to f since c is a piece of mother fucking... no, wait, don't want to piss off the magic gremlins. i don't dislike being me right now, i dislike my pain, but otherwise, the position is nice. i can, and will, overcome. i will prove myself by my own tenacity and dedication, and when the rewards are reaped, i will be resplendant and with at least some recognition and a reputation and then, maybe i can just... okay, mid step... i don't know about that, i don't want to write my way to glory either. like i could... time for another ribbie.
video games.
Saturday, September 25, 2004 6:55 PM
…
Sunday, September 26, 2004 5:16 PM
…
i'm just going to be angry in the mean time... i want to create... what to create... i don't think i sohuld play that other stupid game anymore, wastes my time, my time is precious, whetehr i consider it that or not, at any particular time, we all know it is precious.
so many things to do...
which should i do now...
i finished that other thing i was talking about when i finished sections.
you know what i could use? a good lay. With an attractive woman. with breasts that would make me smile, a face that would make me swoon, and a waist i just want to grab and lift above me, and eyes that--whatever, what girl has "bad" eyes... well, i guess, eyes are more than just the eyeballs, but they are the portals, and they are teh only part not of the face, and tehy are more of ... okay... fuck women, i don't need them anyway.
as long as i'm not playing a video game or watching tv, i know i am doing something productive, of an artist nature. i haven't gone a damn day in my life without creating some kind of art it seems. art is being created all the time, one might call it obsessive compulsive.
…
and maybe you hav'net picked it up yet, but i don't really ilke people, i like people only in the fact that they can read and write, and sing and hear, and create and appreciate creation. As far as being around them. I prefer cats.
my cat in particular, i love that summabitch.
i wrote a song once, called no one loves me but my momma and my cat.
you know... papa was a rollin' stone... i gotta work on my compilations, as well... i do have quite a bit to do. i really can't do it and work and play games, i'm sorry, but its just not going to work.
i gave up tv and video games, to focus me into getting work. not that i got work on my own. i got work by being a good friend over a long time, to a person who could get me a job. But my "dedication" had little effect on that. and i'm getting complacent, i know i shouldn't, but i feel the power of self-reliance. i get to work by proving myself, by attaing goals i already know i can reach, and, in general, without relying on anyone else.
i am in control, and i will stay that way.
but i still must do things outside of work. and i like the need to prove myself. that gets me amped for monday.
no drudgery, but instead, a chance to make a fucking huge difference, by working hard versus not. In my other jobs, i could work as hard as i wanted, and it would never make any difference. now, i can work hard and finish faster and reap benefits quicker, advance faster, make a bigger difference quicker, its a rush and a half.
yeah, it feels good.
…
so... things are good, so nice to say. very nice to happen. so good to continue, must continue, but must not get complacent...
…
Sunday, September 26, 2004 6:39 PM
…
Sunday, September 26, 2004 7:10 PM
…
a rule of the mentality is that the body doesn't get to interject. i may be in pain, but i can still be productive, and still survive, perservere, yeah, its not the easiest, maybe its not easy, maybe it is, maybe i'm just all out of perspective. yeah, that could be as well.
…
i do know i like the addict, i like the compulsion, i like the obssession, it is my fuel, it keeps me going, i keep going regardless, anything, i keep going, going is so an important part of doing, and doing is needed to get things done, and without things, you got just ideas, and ideas die with you, unless you get them out, and into something of more permanence than this stupid shell.
…
Sunday, September 26, 2004 7:20 PM
Sunday, September 26, 2004 11:04 PM
…
i still have to call... call in my pills. and then there's there's always fuck it. i don't want to call in my perscription, cause i'll have to talk to someone to get it transferred, as i need it transferred and using a telephone and talking to someone...
maybe its my ex, for she always got mad with me over the phone, thought i was too condescending, couldn't tell with my mannerism when i was being joking, or some shit... and i near had, no i did, i had a panic attack once right after a phone call in which, fuck if i remember, but she was in LA and i was 45 minutes away, at that time, and i couldn't go there, and it was a dire call.
fuck it.
…
guess what i get to do when i get to work? wimper. all day, on the phone. talking to people. more and more people. EVERYWHERE PEOPLE. siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. if i did make a living as a writer, i theoretically could actually never have to see another person. not bad...
i don't ever want to move, i don't want to be freakishly obese or anything, but i'd like everything brought to me, and i want to live in a fortress on a mountain, and i don't want human servants, i want robotic servants, i want to be completely alone, except for my cat(s).
…
Sunday, September 26, 2004 11:30 PM
…
Monday, September 27, 2004 0:29 AM
I did it, i called it in, now i just need to pick it up tomorrow (proud of myself, but i've got no bupropion for the morn... so i mourn).
…
my god... i've been celebate almost as long as i've had this green room. yep, i've been celebate longer... it's been at least a year and a half then.
25 was supposed to be my last year, then it became too late, and i said this will be my first year... and yet, now the year is almost over, and nothing happened in 25. i still got a few months though, till 26. then its official, i am definitely old.
…
all of college was high, all of highschool was clean, and neither do i remember, i'd have no memories either way, i'm pretty sure, it was not my brain to recall my life, my life is not one i choose to recall.
in the future, we should be able to do tests on each other for all known sexual transferred diseases, that are instantaneous and can be rouitinely done right before every sexual encounter? Further, the device would also tell if the female (or male, in the future, who knows) is taking birth control. And in a matter of seconds you could know that you would have nothing to risk in reaching out and making love to a person in the most intimate of ways, no barriers, and no baggage... what a sexual revolution... and i won't be alive or at least virile AND young enough to enjoy it.
…
now i'm not saying that if it weren't for aids, i'd be getting laid more regularly, but if there was a quick, portable, affordable, reliable, STD tester, that could also check for the pill???! lord, there would be a) less death, b) more love making, and c) a whole new global zeitgeist. And i'm going to miss it. and the person who invents it, will make a fortune, but if he patents it, and then makes it truly unaffordable, then i hope he burns for such...
i suppose i should sleep soon.
i miss sex. it does make one feel human. But i don't need it, nor do i need to feel human. if i just keep my job, keep making money, and keep working my way out of debt, and manage to fix things at least somewhat on time, and have my cat? I don't need any more. and if i don't waste all my time and fall into complacency with video games, then i will get more, anyway, as i strive, which is something i do, as opposed to fucking. As fucking is a social thing, and success comes from being antisocial... Well... artistic success, and not even monetary artistic success. But the kind of productivity i care about, that only comes from being antisocial.
So... Would i rather have the greenroom, or have my brains fucked out regularly?
That's a tough one.
Sleep isn't. Night.
Monday, September 27, 2004 1:03 AM
Wednesday, September 29, 2004 6:49 PM
…
i'd write no matter where, when, or how... except, if i was like, fabulously, wealthy, happy, and constantly fucked in the pleasant way.
she, just didn't want to know... i'd really go... oh, baby, baby, by the time i get to phoenix...
goddamn, i want to finish my goddamn album, i can't keep going to the other, uh, Intelligent&Completed to get my RBs, cause when i go to intelligent&completed near my house when i finish this 24-pack in about 5-7 days... maybe more depending on my mate intake.
…
what a good thing she's lost... i know i am worth much, but i need to consolidate, refine, and rebuild, for i was a bit destroyed but a year ago. the green room is my bulding grounds. where i coallesce the gel that is my ambition.
…
but i've so many projects to finish as it is, and i made some loud claptrap about trying to finish my projects, so... you know, i bet i've not even read once most of the green room. i'm a writer not a reader, and a reader is... ignored by me, i prefer being ignored in many occassions, same is true with most literature.
what is writing, but the ... any stupid expression i want. I find it a bit heady.
…
goddamn i thought she was so beautiful. and she loved my words. and i would write to her today email after email after email if she wanted.
you want my thoughts? she said she liked this... this, effuse... my word...
the green room. she said it was like a written record of thought. i would have preferred the written record of thought of a genius, but i take what i can get.
…
why not be satisfied being a writer and commit to it? cause i had a writer groupie and she left me. so why try that twice? i gave her lots of lovely words, i have plenty others i can share with the expanse before those. i guess i keep thinking she's reading and caring. and i know of neither.
…
maybe an occassional snack as well, though, i am getting hungry.. and my feet.. they are getting cold.. i could use some socks, and goddamn why do i write about everything? why not? its a great way for me to pass the time without falling asleep.
…
where is my zoloft? goddamn it, i did leave it in the car.
some girls saw me playing harmonica on the side of the road, could have been a very effective fbi rouse to get a photograph of me (always covers face in public--or not). i also got a kiss on the cheek, made me feel a bit human, it was "her" birthday. then the minivan went on its way.
anyway, i'm home, i'm not human, i remember now, i need to sleep, so sorry for all those unsignedoffupon pauses. i know it matters so much.
Monday, October 4, 2004 0:09 AM
Monday, October 4, 2004 7:48 PM
…
you know who else i think about? whenever i leave work, and i'm on my way to that other place, because i haven't finished that cd, i drive by a street, a street that leads to the tract where she lives. chillin was her name. perhaps i gave it in haste. whatever, she's never going to respond to these internet bottles in the sea. chillin was like the things she would say "nothin, chillin, yeah, dude, totally, no way, ohmigod, no, no, no, you don't even understand, i'm serious, like i just think that's so weird, don't you think that's crazy?, whatever dude, forget that, you don't even want to know, i'm not kidding," as talks the ones about her, but never the endearing way she did.
…
Monday, October 4, 2004 8:27 PM
…
Sunday, October 24, 2004 10:22 PM
damn, i shoulda got a phone number, or an email address, or told her explicitly to email, such as it is.
i've spent a few hours trying to find her, but whatever, i'm a fool, and quite fine with this.
maybe too fine. Whatever, hey, we met last night, i would love it if you would give me an email, for you still need to show me your studio.
Anyway, that's that.
…
but damn, my lord, you had it going on, from sunrise to sunset, from east to west. a package with less baggage really then finest women I meet. Why do i have to be so honest to myself about what i find attractive? Life would be a lot simpler otherwise. Anyway, i have no way of contacting her, it would be in her court, as i like to say. (For the double meaning, of course.) mm, it makes me want to record, the thought of it. so, email me, i'm waiting for that first email, from that woman who ... Is the first to email.
Sunday, October 24, 2004 10:36 PM
…
Friday, December 3, 2004 1:59 AM
…i'm getting paid. which is nice. work is still going pretty good. you
know what? fuck it. faulkner that slippery bastard, you should read him. he's
fucking brazen. i love it. i'll be brazen, speaking of which, need to up the
vapes... i should be asleep. but i haven't written in so long. i've been so
caught up, with stuff, like receipts, i have a box full now. i've been, well,
kinda... cleaning out my room. But now! Now i got my computer, who cares! I
was doing it to like, make it hospitable to women. Men, i can do without, for
sure. but not having women in my life, that's a pain. not in any simple nagging
way. But in a dull and continual pain, that sets in after the worst of it has
hurt its most, and its seemed like the worst it could ever be, and you want
to feel relief in that it is now lessened, but is it? got distracted, turn this
shit up... its a third cigar toback and a third reuse (but like, green). Like,
is the word of the paragraph. not green. like. like. "we just do!"
Stupid apple jacks i don't trust your commericals, i never did, i've never eaten
an apple jack in my life, "they don't taste like apples, why do you like
them?" says parental figure to spunky-but-not-too-rebellious (i.e. has
a skateboard, but also head and appendage protection) tweeners. It says fucking
APPLE in its title. Also why i've never eaten at Appleby's. And, god, do i hate
apples. maybe because apples associate with apple pie, which is what my mother
in the past, with my middle sister's help, would make, and then my middle sister
eventually got to start making them by herself. Lord, how on earth did my mother
do so much when we were kids... anyway, the apple pie was part of a holiday,
and my father always liked it. and holidays, of course, are america's favorite
excuses to get drunk, socially acceptably drunk. and, fucking eh, i didn't even
realize now, but he really did overreact. i'm sure i've mentioned how i will
never use fancy china if i can help it, especially tea cups. Stupid fucking
schronk. had to get in my way, and i was just running to get my sister her fucking
piece of cake, it was my mother's birthday, god, this is so stream of conscious,
…
Fucking bastard though, he fucking starts yelling about my "selfish need
to get a piece of cake" or some other nonesense, even though i meekly told
him it was my sister, it wasn't going to matter what the hell i said. i could
have spoken en espanol and he could have auf deutsch, it wouldn't have fucking
made any difference to me. But you think i knew then that my father was drunk
off his ass and thus caccooned in a world of denial and buffered by ... of course,
... i don't know. i do know being self-righteous will get me nowhere. which
is a perfectly fine place to be, regardless. i go there often, these vapes are
weakening on me... what is it... 2:45 am... lord have fucking mercy christ.
"ooh, i'm so glad, i know trouble don't last always..." work. isn't
so bad. but i'd rather write all day. i'd rather people gave me lots of money
so i could, without me having to actually sell anything. heh. what a dream.
anyway, it would be great if i could just write and write till my eyes went
numb and my fingers fell off and i could delight in the words and the buffering
it gives me. but hell, at least i'm not yelling at any children. fucking alcohol.
fucking eh, fucking bullshit that my mother kept that from me though, i think,
because how in hell am I supposed to know that it's not perfectly acceptable
and, for all i knew, appropriate to berate their children and abase and verbally
... anyway, mixed are my feelings, for he provides, to some extent. he definitely
did when it mattered. fucking a. and my mother did a very good job, i suppose,
for she ... fuck it. anyway, lets see if i can't finish one of these goddamn
anecdotes or tangents that doesn't lead down a lifetime movie line.
…
and i'm wimpering now... for i know i have to set it for fucking 6 am. fucking
6 god damn motherfucking am. when i should be awake, and enjoying the twilight
before 10 am, a DECENT fucking bed time. 3 am... that's when i just start getting
going. especially times like right now, when everyone, everywhere is asleep.
no fucking loud ass kid neighbors, no stupid cars, no ... anyone. except my
cat, who is very suited to my lifestye. i like to think i carouse the night
with him. well, he goes off and plays in the suburban, back-yard hopping life.
i stay here and wait for him to come and eat, and be cute, and receptive to
my need to be affectionate. I hate to drink partly because i can feel that impatience.
impatience really is the best word for it. Exhasperation instantaneous. fucking
a. i feel it, i feel it in my way of acting. it never gets to be a problem,
because i never do it enough, and never will. but i can feel how it could easily
easily easily make me slip so easily away, inoculated from the stimuli of the
world. able to just sit like a lifeless, slowly drifting mass of gelatin in
the world ... this world i've made. its a bit ridiculous, maybe. but it hurts
no one. and i get to be alone. and perverse, maybe, is my need to be an exhibitionist,
but i'm too slow a reader to be a voyeur. yeah, people will read this, i suppose,
what do i fucking care? i don't. if i can write i'll be fine. i'll be able to
pet my cat. and he will sleep at my foot, resting on shin, and protect me while
i sleep. aw, such a good cat, god damn i love him. if i don't manage this much
affection for a person, i will not be too surprised, for it is quite a bit,
and there ... is now... only whimper... only whimper whimper... 2 and a half
hours... god damn it! Why! I just want to write! But i must work. i must work,
for i can't continue this hamletesque whining without money (stupid hardrive
on the right, the vape gun on the left, whining in stereo, and now, surround).
i want to. but i can't. and its going to time stamp as 3:08, but seeing as i
have to set my alarm for 6:00--and my clock right now says 3:29. It's off by
21 minutes, i'm an idiot, but that never should stop me, i don't think. 3 and
ah... god damn 2 and a half hours. man. at least i'll have a double dose of
ssris, what with my night and day being back to back now, shit, better take
that... cat's scratching the door, wans out... no. now he's come here for my
love. he's in my lap, but only ... yeah, there he goes. well, i'm typing. and
now.. i'm leaving... i have to set the alarm for 6 though, as i have to goddamn......................
....... can't fuck up my regiment, though it is soooooooo tempting, like, just
take out the bath, and like, set your alarm to wake you up in 30 after you take
your pill not 45... or better yet, set it for an hour, and then give yourself
a half hour to green it, for i will not be able to survive otherwise, fucking
eh, it is true. sink swim fly fall. i ... don't know, this morning i didn't.
but that's because... eh, i forget why... might have been a scarcity issue,
and anyway, goddamn why. why do i have to wake up so early? its not really a
scarcity thing, though, as there are plenty of not even singed leftovers nad
not down to the last of the shake'n'bake. and this, slaked, a bit. for soon,
i must wake. and the cat now really wants outside.
Friday, December 3, 2004 3:15 AM
Sunday, December 12, 2004 11:57 PM
Things are slowly getting back to normal.
or better even. Oh... I came to my jesus, just as i was. i was weary eyed, i was worn, and sad... Why gospel? Why indeed. No, i haven't "found" anyone. Anyone even. But there is a cross, yes there is, for every, every one. And i know there's a cross for me. i've begun work on the cover. this album will be soon complete. and dedicated to a very special person. no one you know, no one at all.
…
Anyway, i'm not tired in the least. i slept till a few hours ago, but i have to work tomorrow. for tomorrow is monday, the beginning of the work week. oh, sunday has been enjoyable. to say the least. very relaxing. i really need to finish cleaning. one of these...
my index looks like a disillusioned car with a nostalgic bumper sticker.
I am sorry world, for i had fallen off, i've got stories to tell, but no way to begin.
…
since i went down that road last time, and fuck it, i could pack again, but i'm pretty much more than good. my mind's ache come from the recent family relations, hence the road last time. what the fuck. she wonders if i'm ... says i need to sleep it off. and i sneak out in the middle of the night, cause i've got work. and that was, jesus, a week ago. but it stuck with me. i didn't expunge to the world. YES, that's why.
i was raised catholic, and i've gotten used to certain facets of it. having someone inside to "talk" to, or "pray" to, or ... they keep aiming me jesus, but i know i must persist. i don't have that anymore. i've no longer "got religion." where else to get my inner strength? I must be honest, i'm by all counts atheist. but, man, the "church" is not that bad, the ideals, the lifestyle. the praising through song, that may be not at all as i imagine, in some southern georgia congregation. and then there's the confession. why confess to some--bizarre.... i read my raised-in catholic diocese might be next on the list. not my parish, that's for sure. anyway...
there's so many women too. god. it's almost ridiculous. but it's because i'm near blooming. i'm still incubating. i'm making a folder and a drawer and a cabinet and a row of cabinets and rows of cabinets of a warehouse full of prospects.
…
So, i tried to be social this weekend, and i try often in general, and i fail occassional, or all the time. and maybe others lie. or maybe others don't. or maybe sleep is good, or maybe waking is bad, and the mind of mine that is gone. it's been more than a week, i should have gotten over hearing my mother saying i was "higher than a kite." oh well, now i have public absolution. and i can sleep it off.
Monday, December 13, 2004 0:46 AM
Friday, December 24, 2004 5:44 PM
…
sure, things seem sucky now... but in less than 24 hours, it might start getting better, once the celebration of the birth of our Lord passes.
but i'll probably not be able to leave home until sunday.
i hate going home for the holidays. hence i wrote the song, "song for when i was home for the holidays." with the lyric "i'm nearly 24 years old." Now i'm nearly 26, and nothing has changed. little has happened. and the future looks shorter, is all.
i tried mailing my rebate, the post office closed 15 minutes before i got there (early holiday hours) and, again, waiting till the last minute has hurt me. just as it does because i'm out of pills. no perscription after tomorrow. then what?
better light up another of my self-christmas present. The only christmas present i bought. a pack of cigs. i'm sure that would make my mother happy--assuming sarcasm came true.
there is only one time i dislike being an addict... when others call me on it. and call me a word that shouldn't be considerred bad, but most certainly is. like the n-word. or fag. call me a fag, good, i like gay people more than straight, on average. the more gay the nicer they are. and i like black people too. and women, too, i like them. except when it comes to the natural, man-woman thing. when they hurt me the most.
why isn't my vapes working fully?
who knows... i need an ashtray though.
…
goddamn it, Kraft makes my cigs. i'd rather not help phillip morris, but i do like the benson and hedges 100s. maybe i should record... once i get nice and high. cause right now, i'd rather smoke till i get there. where's that girl i was interested in a minute ago... oh yeah, she's gone.
never was.
never will be, such is life, such is females.
…
vapes are going now good.
when i clean up, and sober up, and realize the time i've "wasted" and then waste more time, what will happen?
most of all, i'll be someone else, and not someone i particularly think productive enough, and too square in general for my taste. oh it is where the tube connects, i do a little moving around and it doesn't make any hiss.
working great now, need a new solution later.
maybe i'll record a new take of sam cooke.
probably, once i'm done, i can't wallow, i'm too high and happy, and that's good, i need to pass these hours, and ym mother wants me home, i can't. she's okay with that, wants me to stay an extra day, but i have no more pills, she knows now, that's good, and now, time is passing. passing. and i'm writing! that's what i want to do, that's what i want to have left over, tuns and tawns of writing. yeah.
i will write till i die, most likely, and people will respect it, why, because it is productive, it leaves something. i left this, tonight, on the matter of life.
…
i bet if i restart now, nothing will work. such is me. such is how i react when things go bad and its christmas eve. i hate christmas, must have another cigarette.
i am impatient, and impatience is the enemy of computers.
…
ooh, weed.
almost forgot to pack a christmas bowl.
i just want to pay back everyone and not have to worry again.
sounds good to me, how about to you?
once money is no longer an issue, then everything will be better. everything.
…
i'm getting close to hermitage. i'm feeling it. i'm not afraid and i'm appreciating it. people do not bother me, though i put my words and thoughts out there, which is good. as that would piss me off.
as pissed off as i can become. self sufficiency, that's my dream. how to acheive, is my question.
the perfect take, the pefect mix, then the cut, and if i could do it all tonight, a christmas myrical, for i have many hours, many indeed, till i'm home for christmas, and will i give a copy to my mother? its religious, who cares what i really think, she might actually like it. but i don't know, i'm not doing it for anyone else... or me. or anything. its just such beautiful music.
…
Friday, December 24, 2004 7:18 PM
Saturday, January 8, 2005 10:47 PM
…
fucking "it really is a gateway drug, anything that teaches their parents to keep their kids off marijuana is alright by me..." says she, who has converted my friend, to the wetter ways of life. but i smoke more than she drinks. still, its like having a gay friend and saying "well, you know, they say that gays are going to hell, but it is an abomindable act, so, I guess it's all right.." "want me to get you another beer too, honey?"
Diff'nt strokes, diff'nt people. i'm going crazy myself. in a quieter way.
teh dullness of it all, that bugs me.
i watched a sports program that was half beer commercials and half car commercials. and then there's this fucking "ad council" propaganda shit... And man it pisses me off. Fucking war on drugs. War on stupidity is what we need. It's a gateway... More than anything else that is legal and addictive? drinking? smoking cigarettes?
fucking people and their fucking ... have i gatewayed any? No. not in the fucking least. I smoke weed and i take ssri's, that's it. I don't drink, nearly as much as they who complain. and they who are so much better than i... but no one doubts the worth of the accomplished. its the routes that get second guessed.
and i have only a month left. till a lot of things.
reprioritizing might be in order. luckily well... i don't know.
you see, 25 was supposed to be the year. boom, i do it in 25. i don't. i go through a better more secure route. i go take my whatever its called, gred sometihng like that, some stupid sat for old people. ged... that's for getting a highschool diploma right? i'm getting old, so old, so old... i don't want to talk to my parents, i don't want to deal with life my life my situation, as simple as it is, as open to oportunity as it is, as clear as it is... i'm not going well.
…
Saturday, January 8, 2005 11:01 PM
Saturday, January 8, 2005 11:12 PM
…
william bell, soothe my soul.
he is working a bit.
thank god for the healing power of music.
and why i must persist. and i will.
i'm cutting myself of the last shackles on my birthday, the 26th so far.
which shackles? life is just a bunch of shackles, anyway... well, the ones i know to be bad and i'm ready to part with. for it has been since last saint patty's that i've started my withdrawing from cigarettes. come my birthday, i must swear them off entirely. patch and all.
i'm down to quarter patches anyway... hold me jesus, in your loving arms, have you forgot to be my lover?
there's something very homoerotic about gospel music like sam cooke's wonderful... which was switched to a song about a girl being wonderful... very strange. jesus is supposed to be the epitome of safe and wonderful. you curl up in his arms and you are like a child, and the world is completely fine...
it's time for a little tribute to a king. i want to play this song... and record it... but i have to get my software workin... fuckin' some shit changed when i updated this and that... and now...
i can still use its editting, but of course i prefer to create over edit. and i do that with writing, eventually it gets good enough taht editting won't be needed, i assume the same will happen with my music. but i have to record more... and i don't know what i'm doing, i'm just sitting on the dock...
otis... otis redding was his name... without his soulful singing... this old world won't be the same...
i assume his picture is in the music hall of fame by now...
lord if it wasn't for bad luck, i wouldn't have no luck at all.
fucking a...
…
so... what should i do with myself?
anyway, no more cigs, and no more chillin. that's write, she's out. out of my mind. and as gone as kely of the Romance series. i miss h... i miss them all.
but not that much.
i'm cryin...
no, not literally. i'm thinking. as in the song. but i'm not crying. not right now. i do cry though. when i'm really gone. really really gone. and i don't now.
to think, she put me through the panic attack, and now she's going back to her... which she is which? i don't know...
fucking life is not how i like it.
not how i need it.
there's a girl though... that i distract myself with. in a nice way. i see her almost every day... she's so beautiful... god... and i don't know anything about her. not a thing, and yet so much do i desire her, over all the other blonde bouncy girls she is very much like that song, Float On, by the Floaters, "I like girl, who's quiet, a girl who carries herself like Miss Universe... A girl who will take me in her arms, and she will say, 'Charles...' yeah...?" yeah.... well, i'm not charles, though i believe he was an aquarius too... i need to pause Bell so i can remember the song ... let's see... "aquarius, libra, cancer, charles, ralph, larry, charles..." wait, that's not right, now i got to listen to it.
aquarius libra leo cancer ... ralph charles paul larry.
ralph's the aquarius. oh well.
though i do love a woman who loves her freedom and a woman, who can hold her own.
man i wish i could record right now.
no more video games. and when is this scan gonna end, so i can turn this shit off. and maybe even uninstall it, if it didn't get what i needed it. though if it did, i might still cause i'm surely not going to pay to get it longer... i can't afford dirt right now, once i can, things will be different. one's worth is in one's worth. sadly but so it is.
i really don't like a girl who's too quiet. i mean, i like a girl who's shy. and i need her to talk to me, cause i'm going to die of shyness any day now.
but this girl, she is so beautiful, i will not deny. there's a word i use too much, and i try... not to, i do... but it happens none the less. i'm going to show some punks that im' the best... in something else, somewhere else. this app, is slowing down because of this goddamn scan.
not like it woill be much faster on the site... but whatever... i don't care. idon't want to describe. nor explain,such is not my need now i refrain.
Saturday, January 8, 2005 11:45 PM
END CHAPTER 1