Oh, ye olden gods

Thank you.

I love this girl. So fucking much. My heart feels like its overflowing. Its just not used to getting so much love. Its used to giving out love, but not having it given back.

Its the greatest feeling in the world.

I love her. And she loves me, too.

I read this email at least twice a day.

I woke up in a good mood today because I woke up next to you. (Sort of anyway.) I had the strong urge to just sit on your belly, lay my head on your chest and tell you, "I love you, oh so much." It's the kind of love that makes you melt, or glow or just turns your insides to static. I know, that I think about if I ever could hurt you... the static swells and aches and my body feels like it's being buried in a freezing obsidian river that weighs more and more as I sink down. It's the kind of love where just a hold of the hand can invoke such feelings of gratitude and contentment. I was just watching you sleep and I couldn't stop smiling or thinking... 'that guy loves me too.'

I love you, baby.

<3 Bree

Another day, another wizard

Urgh.

What the fuck is everyones problem today?

I just want to go to work, do my job, and go home. Talk to Bree and play videogames. Maybe watch some Stargate.

But no. People have to be douchebags. Or fucking crazy. I didn't mind the crazy guy.

"I have a secret facebook page and my icon is Pinhead from the Hellraiser movies. 'The opinion of your god means nothing to me.' I wish the sun would just heat up and suck the souls right out of these monkeys a billion years earlier."

Much better than being yelled at or talked down to for playing videogames.

I need a punching bag. Or a treadmill. Something where I can let the Wolf go and exercise everything out. A safe way to let everything out. My knuckles are finally fully healed from the last time I shattered some cinderblocks. That was about 8 months ago. That was a bad idea. I let it out. I was very angry then. I'm much, much better now. She helps a lot when I get mad.

I'm not the whiney bitch I was before. This is the new me. The kung fu version. 2.0. or 3.0.

Keep positive. Theres an amazingly nerdy girl, who is completely in love with you. And you'll be with her soon. You're not allowed to be mad.

Sing it with me. You'll be with her soon. You can't let it get to you. Keep your head up. If you dont, you're going to drown and die a dishonorable death. I cant have that.
Just need to regulate my breathing, take a run, something, anything other than stew on it like an asshole. Thats not cool. Nobody likes asshole stew.

Merri-mo romance

Her: I want to throw you out a window one day. This is how we're going to get divorced.
Me: I guess Ill have to start carrying a grenade with me whenever im around you.

Newsflash! I love this girl!

So, this year has been something else.

Something else entirely.

My spiral of self-destruction was at its pinnacle this year. Kind of. I didnt do anything very destructive, it was all passive.

Smoking. Drinking. A lot. Sleeping. Getting in fights.

My mind has blocked a lot of it out. My mind blocks out a lot of memories. And its not something that I did. Or do, on purpose. And its not the drugs and drinking. It was a deep need to just live life. Day by day. The protocol for my mind reset to a day by day basis.

Wake up - Work - Home - Sleep - Repeat

And I did this for over a year. Well into 2010. I took the job at the Bill in July of 2010, and thats when it started. Before that I was just throwing up blood and not sleeping, merely falling unconscious. Thats the main reason for my stress. And it carried with me, albeit not as much, when i went back to CCBill.

But this grew tiring once I was able to understand what it was that I was doing. I knew that I wasn't happy. I knew I wasn't happy for a variet of reasons, but the biggest was how unsatisfied I was with my job. It even stunted my writing.  So I had to change it.

In February, my computer thoroughly fucked itself up. It did something it shouldn't, and fried half my hard drives, my PSU, and my backups. So I lost the last 10 years of pictures, and writing. Pictures that I'll never be able to get back, writing I'll never be able to get back. I have a stack of maybe 20 notebooks that I've been writing in since 7th grade. Nearly every single story, poem, song and drawing was in them. My entire life was backed up on 2 of those hard drives. Eluria, the bitch, ate them. Tried to kill herself. I wouldnt let her. I performed diagnostics on them, froze them, did whatever I could to try and get the information off of them, but, my attempts were in vain.

Luckily, I got a fat tax return just after that. So I was able to rebuild her agian. I need to change her name. Eluria was my computer for over 10 years, and now i dont think she has any of her original parts left. And Eluria is the name of vampire nuns.. So probably not the best choice. Especially since she did take quite a bit of my blood..

I dont remember March-July. I should go through my past updates in here and on FB and see if I can figure out what.

And winter was terrible. I had no heater, and a 2 inch gap under the floor. And a bed that was desecrated by animals. So I would have to try and sleep through 20 degree weather. Reminded me of being homeless. So, after all the anxiety attacks and not going into the bill, i decided I needed a change for the better, and opted to stay with my dad for a season until I could get back on my feet instead of staying on a friends couch. I figured that would be better.

Because being homeless sucks. So fuck that.

So moving to Texas was a good change. I cut back on smoking, spending money [and have actually been SAVING money] and working out. Stopped rinking soda, too. Been losing weight. Liking myself.

I still keep everything in boxes, and I only use one of the dresser drawers for my socks. Didn't put up any posters. Most of the time I feel like a traveller, but this time I'm embracing it. I'm making it my own. I know that I wont be here forever, and I'm not counting on it. Im counting on being out of there by spring.

Where to? Nobody knows.

I do have an idea, though. :)

Why I seldom have hope when i want something.

My dad has been talking to me about getting a new phone. We went to AT&T store to check out the phones, but a friend had an iPhone 3GS that he would sell for really cheap.

When are you going to buy Jeffs iPhone? My dad asks.
Sigh.
Tomorrow.
"We can go saturday and get a new data plan installed for your phone."
"Awesome, thanks."
2 hours later.
"Did you look up how much its going to cost you?"
Sigh.
No. But I'll pay it. I bought the phone. I just wish you were more open with what you were doing. I always think you're going to change and actually buy something for me. But, nope. Never.

Whatever. I'll deal with it. He's been doing it my entire life, so, I don't know why I expected this to be any different.

"Dad, can we get cable internet?"
"Whats that?"
"Faster internet than what we have. Everyone else has it, Scott even has it!"
"Sure."
He calls Cox Communications. Talks to them for an hour. Then hung up.
"Maybe for your birthday."
And this cycle went on for 2 years. The first year it wasnt available in my area. The 2nd he just didnt want to do it. This happened a lot. I would want something, then he would buy it for me, and call it a christmas or birthday present.

So that fucked with me having hopes, to say the least. Hah.

Positives. I now have a phone thats not just a phone. It has GPS. Now I'll never get lost. After its activated, that is. And wireless internet! I feel like the kid on the playground where everyone else got the cool new action figure and I was stuck with a Pic N Save knockoff. I finally got my shiny new toy like all the other kids.

Which I do find embarrassing. I usually keep up on technology. Everything but my phone. Now Im finally in this millenium. Huzzah!

Her

I've written before about the woman with black hair in my recurring dreams.

The dreams that always make my day melancholic. When I wake up, the feelings from the dream are cemented in me for a few hours. Usually turns my day to shit.

I can't remember most of the dreams, just small flashes.

Small bits. Never her face. An occasional part of a smile. Her hair. Her smell. Her touch. The cold scars of her kisses.

Well. I think I may have found her.

I would also like to note, that once in a while, I have precognitive dreams. It happens a few times a year. Its nothing amazing or spectacular, I'm certainly not going to be stopping any terrorists plots. But I wake up, write down what I remember, then a few months or years later, what i wrote down happens. The most prominent one I can remember is a dream I  had in 3rd grade. I was drawing a picture of Guyver. And it was awesome. It was way beyond me. And I also drew a picture of Earth, with a giant set of jaws on it. I found out that they were drawings from 5th grade. I was obsessing over Guyver, constantly drawing Sho Fukumachi and the first Guyver unit. And I got damn good at it. The other picture was my fan submission for a poster for 'Godzilla vs Spacegodzilla'. I still think it was a dope drawing. Should have won, that's for sure. Way cooler than the other ones. Except for the official painting one

Anyway, this happens to me a lot. Oneirology was always fascinating to me as well. These experiences made me realize, and believe, that time is relative. It is a giant pool with no direction. Events all happen simultaneously. [this type of thinking has gotten me through nearly every bad situation, ever. Remember. In the end, everything is going to be alright. If it isn't alright, it isn't the end.] Even though I don't believe time is a line which means I believe that the end is the beginning and the middle and the back and the front.

Well. This girl i met, lives in Germany. We have been talking non-stop since September. About pretty much everything and anything in between. I always had a crush on her. She was like the far away object of my desire. And then one day, we started talking. We had the same taste in music, and that opened up a world of conversation. Hell, we're still having music conversations to this day.

Anyway. After a while, things started to get pretty deep. And I don't think it was intentional. It started with flirting and dirty conversations. The type of things most girls don't say unless they're into you. Then again, my expertise with women decayed since Jesse. So I took these things as signs of interest, and I pressed. She told me to back off. And i did. For a few days. Then, like a moron, I started on it again. I've never met a girl like her before, and I'll be honest, what she wanted confused me. I don't feel bad because it confused her, too. There's a lot of drama involving an Ex and a bit of malpractice.

I wanted to show her how much she meant to me. I wanted to show her the amazing and beautiful woman that I had been talking to. So, she mentioned about coming out and visiting me on her winter break. I pulled some strings, got her a ticket and had her in my arms for a full 4 days.

Waiting for her at the airport was so stressful. I kept thinking she would walk out of the arrival gate, see me, and then turn right back around. But she didnt! She came out, we hugged akwardly, and went back to my dads house.

We spent the next 4 days together. That's when it all hit me. The way she feels. Small glimpses of her smile or her hair. She was as close to the lady in my dreams as I had ever seen. And the attached emotions were there, as well. I was waking up and saw her smiling, but just the bottom part of her face, and i felt a shiver and remembered the dream. Then I fell, hard. After the last day together, I knew that I loved her. It wasn't a boast. I honestly felt love. When I kissed her, It was electric. I had never felt anything like this before. When she looks at me, I cant help but smile. When she makes jokes or silly faces I start to grin like a big dumb idiot.

And our conversations, they're endless. There's nothing that we cant or haven't talked about. I've honestly never had a connection with someone like this. I know my interests are weird, but I've never met someone that I could easily talk about black metal, then kung fu or anime, then indie rock or horror movies. Not anyone who was ever worth a damn in conversation, though. And she is. She's constantly showing me new things. Which is huge. And her Mixtapeology, is amazing. Id marry this girl based on how she makes a mix tape. We've even had really nerdy conversations about the nerdiest proposals, and how awesome they are. I'm still trying to think of one to top her ideas. But they're pretty awesome, so its hard. I just wish she had an easier time thinking of the positives instead of the negatives.

My favorite day with her, was Saturday. That's the exact time that I knew that my feelings weren't fucking with me. That I could stand on my own two legs and scream my feelings to the world. I woke up, we went to Wal-Mart to get an Xmas tree, and I got her a star wars shirt. She bought some poinsettia's for my step mom and dad as a thank you. After that I took her to a comic shop. Unfortunately, I left my wallet at home, so I couldn't buy her the Xmas presents I really wanted to. But luckily I had enough money to get her the first 3 volumes of preacher, the first chronicles of wormwood TPB, and a stuffed baby godzilla.

That last one was really important.

When you find something that you think is amazing, and someone else thinks its just as great, its an amazing feeling.

After this, we went back to my dads and hung out for a bit until it was time to go to her friend Shawn's bachelor party. We met at a bar, and hung out for an hour or two, talking about videogames and anime. It was pretty awesome. Then we went to korean bbq and karaoke where I got to watch her sing. On the drive home we listened to 'Return of the Mack' about 15 times. I still laugh whenever I hear him say 'Oh mah ghawd' or 'Wants mah pearl'. And it makes me think of her.

That entire day was amazing. She held my hand whenever we went somewhere, or when we were driving. She hung on my arm. Occasional kiss. Just thinking of it now is making the blood rush to my face. And this isn't really a confession of love. I don't have enough time to write that, even though I have all night. Its more of just a recount of everything that's happened.

I'm in love.
There's no doubt about that.

I want to make her happy. I want her to succeed in her dreams. I want to be there for her.

And, again. There's always the same issue when i write to her or about her, that words, no, language, isn't enough to describe how i feel. Only pure emotion could. Language doesn't do it justice.

Ventotron Part I

I need to write in here more, is what every post I've written has at the top.

I wrote a few since I moved to Texas, but theyre way to personal to put online. So, as drafts they will remain. For no real good reason. I wont read them again. I just needed to exorcise some words.

Well. Shit.

Where to begin?

I finally had enough shit from the Bill. After a week of being sick, and then another week of panic attacks, I just stopped going in. I would wake up, feel like shit, throw up, start to go to work, have a crippling anxiety attack, and then just lay in bed. I'm not very good at shulking out of duties. Whenever I called out I just laid in bed, worrying. I don't like to miss work, no matter how much I say I'd rather be somewhere else. Its against my persona.

I mean I've been working since I was 14. My first job was at a card shop, a few blocks away from my house in Mesa. I didnt work for cash. I worked for Magic cards. Yeahhh. Pimp, right? I would go into the store, and he had these gigantic fucking boxes of MTG cards. The owner, Owen, had no idea what to do with them. So after a few weeks of coming in and scouring through the cards, re-ordering them, he offered to pay me to do it. So I would take the huge card bins home, and sort them out by color and */*. I stole 2 cards, and I felt terrible about it. Owen didnt give a shit though, hah. I still miss those cards. 'Order of the Ebon Hand' and 'Leviathan' [10/10 Nyucka!]. Awesome card art.

After that, I did bootlegging until I was legal age to work. [15.7 yo] I had Napster, a few cd burners and a burning passion for music. So I would take requests for foreign music, burn the CDs and charge 5$ for the disk. I did it for anime, too. I miss those days. Being in 8th grade with a fat wad of cash was pretty awesome.

My next job was working media at best buy. As soon as I hit 15.7 I applied there. My mom worked there, and I loved electronics so I had to get a job there. The discount! Ohhh, the discount. I didnt have a car or any bills, so I just turned around each paycheck and put them right back into Best Buy. Man, I used to have HUNDREDS of movies and CDs. And I was awesome at my job. Someone would come back to my section and say something like :

"I want that movie with the guy from Alien where his kid gets killed!"
"Ah, yes. Pumpkinhead starring Lance Henrikson. Fantastic choice."

And I met a lot of awesome people. I got fed up when I repeatedly got yelled at for not trying to get people to buy Xbox's with their Michael Bolton CDs, and told them to shove it. Now that I think about it, I never got my last paycheck from there.. Damn.

After that I went to Apollo Industries, Best Buys shipping company, working with my mom. She worked dispatch, and I was a trucker's helper. It was my job to get the appliances off the truck and into the houses. Which meant me scrambling to cut open a refrigerator box and then taking it up flights of stairs on my back. I was a lot stronger then. Constantly worked out. I need to start that again.. It was cool. I met some celebrities that lived in Az. But the dude I worked with was a dick, and I hate 14 hour days. So I said fuck that.

And moved on to 2wire. My first legally paying tech job. I spent 2 years doing DSL setups, modem/router troubleshooting, being a runner, and a trainer. I dont quite remember what happened there. But I left. Then I took a year off of work. I went to training classes for a new job every few weeks to pay my way. I also moved out of my moms house when I was 17. Moved to tempe, lived off campus. Speaking of which I wonder if my credit card debt was wiped clear yet.. I need to pay that..

After that i got a job at CCBill. Doing porn tech support on graveyard shift. Easy job. After 6 months, I got promoted to supervisor. Even easier job. I did that for about 4 years, then got tired with how easy it was. It was me, and 3 other peeps. Very low call volume, barely any responsibility. Dream job for most. All I did was smoke j's and watch movies, occasionally falling asleep. Then i got a bug up my ass after too long and decided to go back serverside. So I applied for a hosting technician for Cavecreek Hosting, another subsidiary for the same company that owned CCBill. That was a terrible god damned year. I've never been more stressed in my life. Apparently, no one else has either, because no one is still there. It added the most impressive piece to my resume, though. I helped build the PhoenixNAP from the ground up. Which should assure me a tech job anywhere, should I ever want one again.

After a year of thinning hair, throwing up blood, sleep deprevation and 2 dead bodies, I said fuck this noise, and tried to go back to CCBill. They had a supervisor opening so I figured I had the experiance, so why not. But, not. My boss was a dick and made me go back to entry level. So I did that and climbed it for a year until the beginning of my story. I couldnt take it anymore. Lifes not worth living if your not happy. And I was not happy. At all. I've never been so miserable. So I quit. Then i got kicked out of my house because my roommates were getting married. Kicking us out 3 months earlier than we were supposed to be. So, I did the hardest thing I had ever had to do in my life up to that point [other than first kiss], and asked my dad if I could live with him temporarily. He said sure, and that he would even help me move out there.

So, in mid september, I packed up all my shit, threw it in the back of my truck, and headed out east. When I got here, I was lucky enough to have a job waiting for me at a 3rd party maintenence provider with my da. I've mostly been paying off previous debts, and working. Nothin' but. Trying to find friends, and i've found a whopping 3 since I got here.

Its only transitional. I know what I want to do with my life. Ive run away from my career a few times, but I know I'll end up going back. I have the knowhow, and the money is good, and can provide an easier life. So I know I'll be back. I just need to find out where..

I had it narrowed down to a few places, but I'm still not sure where to yet. My main plan is a bit dilluted, but, its better than no plan.

01) Save up enough money to move and live comfortably for a few months or until I secure a job.
02) Work. Probably a tech job for the $$$.
03) Schooling. Still dont know if i want to go for psychology/psychiatry, or phsyics. or writing.
04) Continue to work on my videogame bibles until they are complete, and get them bitches sold.
05) Keep working on my writing until I get published. Main goal is to get paid for doing what i love.
06) Profit.

00) use my blogs a fuck-ton more. So I can get out the shit that rattles around. Loose pieces that are drivin me crazy.

So here I sit, at work. Its slow, so I can get some writing done. Things are actually going pretty well again. There are hiccups, but, there always will be. I fell in love with a girl, and she seems to like me just fine. Another improvement. But thats a much longer, more tragically romantic story. Perhaps my next post. Nothing I cant handle.
I'm a man.

I got my dungarees.

My black tank top.

A truck. A beer.

Just missin a dog and a guitar.

"well i dont lose my composure in a high speed chase
my friends think Im ugly
but i got a masculine face"

Well I had a great time at the party last night. Mel convinced me to stay, as I've known her for almost 6 year and havent actually spent a day with her. So I did. And I'm glad. I met a beautiful comic nerd, a mr/s who is just as obsessed with horror movies as I am, and just had a good time all around.

Such a good time, that I'm requesting to be moved off Graveyards. I cant do it anymore.

I miss being able to go out. Its like working graveyards has sucked the life out of me. Graveyard shift IS the vampire.

Huh. That's a good idea for a short story..

Anyway.

Yes. I feel like switching shifts would change so much for me. And all for the better.

So, here's hoping that doctors orders go through and I get on either first or 2nd shift.

More SOC writing

I used to be as smooth as my leather jacket. I was thinking about it last night. I used to be the bee's knees. Not anymore though. The world has taken a psychic hammer to me, molding me into the confused cretin before you.

I don't know what the influence was. I think it might have been my ex. Got going too fast, didn't have enough time to stop, and I crashed.

Yes, that was more than a few years ago, but my surroundings haven't helped. And my attitude is just one of survival so I haven't helped either. I've tried though. I lay awake at night thinking about it.

What did I lose? I know the feeling that's missing inside, its what propels my dreams, but I swore, at one time I had it. Its a feeling that Perdition City first gave me.

Like the night my godfather came down and had his limo company pick us up and cruise around Scottsdale on his dime. I was too young to do anything, of course, but I was at the age where I looked like a big kid that matured slowly. So even though I was only 15 I passed for 19.

The limo driver took my parents and godfather to a piano bar, and I got to ride around in the limo with a driver who resembled Marky Mark. He was a nice guy. We drove around the industrial area for a bit, and found a run down house next to two big buildings that was having an art showing. And the had Corona! I didn't take one though. I remember all the paintings having something to do with rabbits..

 I was lighter then. I feel bogged down now. Chains wrapped around my midsection. I need to get these off. Starting with the barbs around my skull. They pull and I don't bleed, I just wither. Dreams and mojo just dissipating, the harder it squeezes. I don't know where theyre goin. Probably falling to the floor around me. But I'm not looking down here, I'm not looking anywhere, really. I'm looking through. I don't know at what.

Concentrating.

Meditation. Too much white noise. I cant stop thinking.

Fast.

This is what a seizure starts like. My mind cant, comprehend, I guess, the changes in speed. To repetitively think at accelerated speed, then slow down for a minute second, then start again. I often get reeled into neural patterns and puzzles. I once stayed awake all night trying to think of the neural/subconscious split that would be needed in order to cause schizophrenia. The mind is a terrible and powerful thing, so I spent an hour thinking about how to break a and mold a personality into 2 separate beings. Then the rest of the night so afraid of what I might have started trying to undo the thinking that had already happened.

I need to step back, again, somehow. Or step forward. I cant tell if I'm behind the curtain, in front of it or 1,000 feet away anymore. I see the old me and doing things and thinking things that I don't think now. That's the bastard pain of it, knowing that I would think something previously, that by all means should still be the same, but I dont.

I blame this job. It was fine at first. But its the only constant unhappiness I have in my life. I was OK with doing support for people who were too dumb to breathe. Serves them right. Then, just like the depressive stage in high school, the bitterness got to me. They started dragging me down, creating panic attacks and anxiety. The job isn't bad. But there these ridiculous goat fucking inbreds that call, and make excuses as to why they cant do simple human functions like breathe through their noise, read something that you are entering your credit card information for, that kinda thing.

I used to not care. Then I fell into the oubliette. Helping hands gripping my self destruction and helping me down down down. But I'm upside down so It feels like I'm  going up.

But, the job is so easy. I sit around and do emails. Take a few calls. Watch some movies. Get free grub. I would enjoy it more if it was VPN. That would be nice. I could get a lot more work done if I was playing X-Com.. but I digress.

Those shit-kicking mouth-breathers stole my light. Threw grime and dirt on me, rubbed it in with their blue-collar boots. I haven't read a book in a long time. I think theyre stealing that too, or Im just not in season for litearture, which is more likely. They cant take my escapes from me.

But why did I let them do this? This is very unlike me. I was raised on cowboys and samurai, my honor is not easily stained. At this point, its all but lost. I never let anything take me down. So, it had to be a combination of things. Sure, there was the girl. And then there were the friends. And the money mistakes. I was never addicted to drugs, sure, i've tried most of them but I never became a strung out junky. I learned from reading. From watching.

Sure, Ive been in a lot of illegal activities.  I made it a point to. Had to live. Kerouac would have done it. Moriarty would have without even thinking. I'm missing that skip in my beat. Maybe that's what all this trouble with my heart is. I'm completely out of sync. With the world. Before I was in a harmony with everything. My chemistry was top of its game. I feel like it still is now, i can pretty much get along with anyone that isn't swinging a bat, but before it was just, I don't know. It certainly wasn't innocence that was lost.

I'm like an abused dog. The guy I sit next to at my job takes call on speaker phone [which he fucking abhors if the customers do] and I find myself leaning in as close to the computer speakers as possible. Trying to filter it all out. It makes me very uncomfortable. Like someone playing with their cell phone will driving. I can't take it. The atmosphere here is so nasty. Miasmic.

I guess thats why I'm looking for another job. I have the experiance. i want to get out. I want to be near family and friends, where I'm loved. I'd like to live near my friends and family in Austin, and my best friends will be there.

I feel like I'll be able to grow again. The mountains have stunted my growth.

I will keep on, though, modal soul through and through.

Yes, I believe in alternate realities. Seperate consciousnesses. Or perhaps theyre on levels and I'm far to close to see it that way. I don't know. I know the feelings they leave are real. The residue of dreams. I feel it when I wake up. It sticks through me through the entire day, like something is deeply wrong.

I don't know what it is. Sometimes when I'm listening to music, I'll hear a song or a note and they will literally pluck at my heartstrings. I feel the reverberations going through my body into phantom pathways. Neurological nets that could have been, should have been.

How many people am I?

Have I been?

Why do I see windows?

And so much white. It could almost drown me its so overwhelming. Maybe not white, no. Light, though. A religious experience? I don't know, I'm hardly religious. Its never a certain thing. Sometimes when I go places with certain people, or being at a certain place at a certain time, musical notes, smells, the breeze; what are they triggering? I cant do anything about it, is reality forcing me to stop and smell the roses or rubbing my face in the shit of other worlds?

Stained. Whatever it is, its fucking exasperating. I'm not opening anything, I'm not even looking anymore. Is something else trying to open for me, something inside me or beside me, even? What is this love that I carry for something that isn't even real. Not even a material thought. She has black hair, thats all I know.

Sometimes when I'm laying in bed, teetering on the wall of sleep, I can see her outline. In a house, no less. She is in her underwear, but its not sexual. Craving a purely human experience, relationship. Existence and emotion in its purest form of understanding. I get a chance to experiance it every night, turning myself inside out. Upon waking it fades miles faster than it came. Into the grey? the red? the white? Id?

What is in that lockbox.

I feel like I used to know. Did I leave something in there? I don't remember how to get there.

When you are standing up, you know that you are rightside up. Your body knows, your mind knows. This is like that. I'm standing up but it feels like I'm upside down. Every time I try to get up I get blinded by an enourmous light, and missing time. Then I'm stuck again like Roland at the tower. I'm not righting my wrongs, making small changes though. Am I? Are we all? Could this be one of the very minute stationary existences between the events?

I'm not falling. I'm... spinning. Stationary. Out of rotation, psychological orbit has been released? To tight? 

Welp, I'm done with my console phase. Played the hell out of Final Fantasy 4-5-6-7 & Tactics, Dragon Warrior 7 and Chrono Cross. And something else. It was a good experience, those are still my all time favorite systems/games. Gave me some great ideas for a turn-based rpg based on Journey To The West. TBRPG's have been gone for long enough, it'd be a safe bet it would be popular again. Now I guess my next phase is movies. Good considering CG just went free-leech, and I need to work on Eschaton more. excellent.

"Can I trust you?"

"Trust me? Trust is gained. I don't trust you. If it came down to life or death I would say yes, but even then I would think twice."

I cannot get my blog format down. For movies anyway. I just dont know how to approach it.. It'll come in time I reckon.

I'm lonely. I'm depressed.


So very depressed. I've been sleeping 12+ hours a night.



I'm so fucking antsy. And mad. And discontent.

I just want a woman to worship. To be friends with. To bang. Someone I'm attracted to. Someone smart. Someone who smiles.

I said I didnt want to go there yet, she disappeared.

work salad

You had to have been in there at least a few days.
But what about before that?
You are crunchy, thank god you still seem fresh.
Much better than the soggy turkey burrito.
By the third bite I dont know how I feel about this.
If you were wilted and brown, that would be fine, and understandable.
But you arent.
Are you genetically modified lettuce? Was that really ranch dressing?
I dont trust you.
Nope.
I've gone and over-thought it.
I'm not hungry anymore. You will sit on the edge of my desk as a trophy.
A reminder to the time that I did not bow down for salad, genetically modified or other.
I've got my pride.

sunsets and skylines

I'm so happy I was able to go to the drive-in before they became completely extinct. Thats where I saw Twister! And the Lost World! I sure hope they make a comeback some day..

Taste that americana. Kinda tastes like a PIC incent. or DDT.