Merry Fucking Christmas

Mr. Hankey's Christmas Classics
Tags: SOUTH
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A New Goal

To put it bluntly, I've been entertaining the idea of suicide for quite some time. The idea of having to live the life I lead simply depresses me. It absolutely disheartens me to no end that I have not led my life into any sort of direction. I can blame everything around me but it doesn't change the fact that the only person I can blame is myself. For whatever reasons (and, to me, the reasons are good), I haven't turned my boat to sail into the direction that I want (using Obama's analogy). This slow, arduous task is daunting. This is why I've pretty much moored myself hoping that the tide will take me out on its own. (all these boating analogies. Please stop.)

It will not.

I failed to note that I am on my way to my Philosophy degree, with the goal of going on to a Masters. I played with the idea of getting a Communications degree but that's too much schooling; another 3 or so years, I believe. I just can't see myself going for that much longer. But, we'll see.

Anyway, two short years left to attain it. And yet, those two years, I foresee, will be long and painful. My focus has been on completing these last few years. I feel like that fighter pilot whose plane is crumbling away around him, his only goal is to shoot that last enemy out of the sky. My world, I feel, is crumbling away. I am in my cockpit, deciding whether or not it's time to hit the 'eject' button (from boats to planes. WTF?).

To let you know, I have it all planned. The best way to go is by train. I think it would be the most painless and effective way. I have a spot picked out where the trains go by each day. And, I can have my affairs in order rather quickly. And no, I don't have concerns about people on the train nor do I have concerns about those who are close to me. We're all selfish creatures and I am not denying my own selfish motives here.

But, I'm not going to do it. I have a new goal now. Aside from finishing school, there is something I must do. Something so important now that I can't just give up easily by taking myself out of this life. It is something that transcends the battle of good and evil.

I wish I could tell you what the goal was. It's too complicated to go into detail. But it's something that, if I don't do, the forces of evil will prevail. I can't let that happen. This is a Hiro moment, I must say (if you watch Heroes, you'll understand the reference).

Once again, I have purpose.

Another birfday come and gone

So. Another year and another birthday. Yay for me (happy happy joy hoy). With that said, I have to admit that I'm not very big on birthdays. I don't care about them, I don't post them (mine or anyone else's) on my calendar and I don't do anything out of the ordinary to celebrate them. If one says 'happy birthday' to me I simply smile and say 'thank you'.

But as this one passes by, it has me thinking -- damn, I'm getting old. I'm almost 40. Back when I was 6 or 7, I distinctly remember calculating how long it was until my 40th and when it would be. Of course, it's some simple math and a year but.. do you understand how long that is to a child of 6 or 7? It might as well have been forever. And a day. Thirty plus years was a long time ago. Back then, it was awe-inducing to think, wow, I'll be 40 someday. I'll be 40 in 30 some-odd years. I've got plenty of time to do all the shit I want. I got plenty of time.

And now it's here. It's right here, on my doorstep, knocking with the knuckle on its index finger. It's tapping gently to let me know, "Hey, just a kindly reminder!" But, soon, it will start rap rap rapping away, its impatience steadily growing to let me know that the day is getting closer. And, next year, bam! Forty is going to haul its ass right through that door, ready or not.

And what have I done in those 30+ years to get ready? Absolutely fucking nothing. That's what.

While I was busy doing stupid shit, Forty was laying out its plan. While I was drinking and driving, Forty was shining its shoes. While I was seeking new and creative ways to do nothing, Forty was fitting a coat. And now that Forty is at the door, I want to tell it to go fuck itself.

Granted, with the time I've had being unemployed, I've tried some new things. I've gone back to school, I've dabbled in hobbies, I've contemplated ways of becoming rich and famous (without the famous part). But I haven't accomplished shit. I look around me and I see that things are not only moving at amazing speeds, they're moving in ways I've never even conceived.

Is this what old people feel like? I thought it was just the VCR they couldn't figure out.

It's weird. I thought I had time. I thought I could be the person I was being. Turns out, it wasn't the best move I've made. The best laid plans sometimes fail. Not making any plans fails miserably. And I'm miserable.

So what do I do now? When I answer the door next year, I want Forty to be, like, "Yo, dude! Fucking brilliant! Let's get a beer and celebrate." I don't want it barreling in and saying, "What the fuck, dude? What. the. fuck!?"

But, hey.. At least I'm not so uptight to say fuck it all and break up with someone because that someone texted me a happy birthday wish. Seriously? You know what, Mer? Go fuck yourself.

OMGOMG!!

Ethnic Studies is a requirement for me to transfer to university. This is fine and good and all but the writing assignment I (and all of my classmates) received really has me going OMFG, WTF!?

I have to come up with a research paper that somehow ties in a specific topic and how it affected 4 different minority groups. So, I can talk about immigration or labor exploitation. I can talk about ethnic enclaves (ethnic enclaves? GAH!) or a plethora of other topics. It would be so much easier if I only had to talk about one minority group.. but four?

While I was positive I would have no problems with this, I'm quickly coming to the realization that I'm most likely going to fail miserably. I really hate academia.

If anyone can suggest a thesis statement, I'll promise not to tell I stole it from you. So long as you didn't write a paper on it that can be found through turnitin.com. Really. Mum's the word.

Liberal vs Conservative: why?

It seems to me that there is this overwhelming hatred for the 'libs' these days. We're seeing a total backlash against anything or anyone that could be even remotely considered liberal. Fox news, the Tea Party (they'll deny this; they'll say that they're against big government and all that. However, their organization is made up of mostly conservative, right wing.. well.. people. I'll leave the ad hominems out of it), Limbaugh and Beck; we're seeing a growing tide of moderate to right-winged alarmists who will do everything short of killing people to get their point across. What's that point? That liberalism is sending this country to hell.

Don't get me wrong. Conservatism is good. It's good for the status-quo, who want to feel safe and cozy in their normal, everyday way of life. It's good for tradition. It's safe. It allows people to hold onto their past. It keeps fundamental ideas in check. I can't fault those who are conservative. They just want to hold onto their values and belief systems, even if those values and belief systems are antiquated. They're comforting. They're also what keep people from advancing their ideals and visions of a better future.

Frankly, Conservatism keeps things stagnant.

If we thought that way 300 some odd years ago, we'd still be part of the Commonwealth today. We'd have Queen Elizabeth on our coinage and not George Washington. We'd be eating blood sausages and not hot dogs. We'd be playing Cricket and not Baseball. Soccer would be our Football. No, our Founding Fathers weren't conservatives. Today, they'd probably be considered radical terrorists. Their ideas were new and different. They were thinking outside the box. They were revolutionists. Revolutionists aren't conservative, remember? Yet, today, we celebrate them, hold them in high regard. We shoot fireworks on July 4th, damn it!

So, it makes me wonder why people are so apprehensive when the word 'liberal' is uttered. It absolutely amazes me just how ignorant people are to the fact that liberal minds bring about progress.

It isn't any wonder why liberalism is also called progressive. While the conservative lives in his little home with the white picket fence, the world of liberalism builds skyscrapers and creates technological advances all around him. Then, as the conservative embraces that which has progressed around him, the liberals will have moved forward 10-fold onto better (for the most part) things. Eventually, that which was known as liberal will again be considered conservative. That's the cycle, see?

So, righties, stop the lib bashing. Without us, you'd still be saying "God save the Queen" and eating Marmite. Bleh!

Having sex isn't always a good thing

Yeah, so.. hooking up with an ex-girlfriend after the woman you're currently sleeping with ends the gig (via text message no less) is not that great.

A text message saying "ur sexy" isn't something that should be replied to. Another text saying, "we used to have great sex," too, should be ignored.

Nope. I had to go an answer both; the latter with, "we should have sex again for old times sake."

Not good.

Within a few hours, we had hooked up, done the deed and said our goodnights. It was the literal "wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am" evening many often fantasize about. Let me tell you, it's not at all what one would think. In fact, I think it was a mistake.

It wasn't good for many reasons. One is, this woman cheated on me. That's why we broke up. She later married and, guess what? She cheated on her husband. Two kids, a home and a marriage shot to hell and here I am, enabling her, saying it's okay to fuck an ex-boyfriend you cheated on, too. Another reason is - it was just a bad thing to do. Not morally, but... I don't know how to explain it. It just made me feel dirty. Like, mud-on-my-shoes dirty. Like, toxins-on-my-skin dirty. The dirty that makes you shudder and go, "ew-ww!" The two-syllable Ew. It just wasn't right.

Mind you, I didn't and won't lose sleep over it. Sex is sex. It didn't really mean anything; it was a "good time." Unfortunately, it wasn't really a good time, either. It was a bad judgment call. Via a text message.

I may just have to cancel my mobile service now. Shudder!

So..

Not having a car really sucks balls. Anyone reading this crap should know - public transportation sucks ass.

I miss my car.

That Night

Depending on the perspective, it was either late in the evening or early in the morning. The light of the moon slipped through the blinds, giving everything in eye shot a pin-striped glow.

Underneath the blankets, we were still awake but only barely. I could hear the ticking of something.. the clock?.. over our whispering. In fact, I could hear the world standing still and the moonlight breaking through the windows. You were saying something to me and then you said, "if I asked, would you stay?"

In that instant, the world shifted. My world. The ticking ticked ticked ticked slower and slower. Its vibration became longer and longer, its pitch lower and lower. It was like one of those slow-motion scenes where the drop of sweat fell ever so slowly down the protagonist's face as he lost the final, epic battle. I had to think even though I knew what I was going to say. Had to say. My mouth was beginning to speak even before I had the chance to process all of the possible outcomes.

Tom Leykis be damned for that very moment.

"No," I uttered. "I can't."

The words left me before I even knew what I was doing. Deep within me, I wanted to stay. I needed to stay. Yet, the boy who wanted to be a man had to prove a point. It was a 'no' all the way round. I had to go. I couldn't stay. I couldn't be seen as weak and needy. But I wanted to. I wanted to say 'yes, I will stay' and sleep under the warm covers in that starkly cold room. I wanted to lay next to your warm body and watch you grind your teeth as you slept. I wanted the world to shift back somehow.

That night, or morning, depending upon perspective, I gathered my things and left.

Regrets....

Me vs I. Is there a difference?

I've been up late at night thinking about whether or not reincarnation is real. Part of this deals with the concepts Me and I. Are they different? Yes. They are.

At least, I think they are. It's very difficult to conceptualize this in words. However, I did start with the dictionary. Well, Dictionary.com that is.

I've cut all the superfluous crap out. For I:

–noun
3. Metaphysics . the ego.

For Me:

-pronoun
1. the objective case of I, used as a direct or indirect object: They asked me to the party. Give me your hand.

So, what do Me and I have to do with reincarnation? They, specifically, don't. It's their concepts (the ones I'm trying to articulate) that do.

You still with me? Good. More later.

I Write Like....

I write like
Chuck Palahniuk

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

orly?

I write like
David Foster Wallace

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I understand Mr. Wallace was a writing genius. I, however, am not.

I wonder how many other writers I'm like? I thought it'd be fun to submit samples at a new website called I Write Like. You can find it at http://iwl.me/.

Happy endings

I hate happy endings. They always ruin a good movie.

Love: HIGH FIDELITY.
Hate: Happy ending. Fuck that!

John Cusack, you're a god.

A nice drive..

It was one of those days. Finals were over and I had nothing better to do. I didn't want to go home; anything's better than going back home. So down the the 5 freeway it was. I didn't really plan on it and I didn't know where I was going.

As I navigated through six o'clock traffic, I was summarizing an idea I had for a book. No, a script. No, a book. And, it was going to be about gambling. It would start with, "Chips!" Yes, that's how it would start.

Six o'clock traffic going southbound on the 5 freeway and I didn't want to go to Disneyland. It's the place I always gravitated to when I wanted to get away from it all. It is Fantasyland afterall.

I kept on going.

What to do, what to do? Southbound to the 133 interchange. Then southbound towards Laguna Beach.

I haven't been to Laguna Beach in a few years. Not since that morning when I left her sleeping in her bed. I can't even remember what she looked like. Crumpled up in those covers, maybe? I do remember that the room was cold and the light of the sun was trying to break in through those bamboo-style blinds. I tiptoed out, put my pants on and grabbed my shoes. I looked over the apartment one last time and I left, knowing I'd never see her again.

The drive up the 133 was surreal. I half expected to pull alongside her dingy white Suburu at any moment. I looked in each car I passed thinking maybe she traded that piece of shit in for something new. Maybe I'd get a glimpse of her looking in a rearview mirror or, maybe, I'd see her staring at me, bewildered.

Because summer is so close, the late afternoon sun was still high enough to cast its commanding orange glow over the canyons flanking the highway. I hadn't really noticed them before but... the canyons were gorgeous. Ansel Adams be damned for not shooting them.

Nothing had changed. It looked exactly how I remembered it. The 133 ended right at the beach. Tourists on their bikes, couples hand-in-hand and the The Beach cast member wanna-be's in their Benzes and BMWs were all up and down PacCoast Highway. The white sand against a blue sky. The smell of salty air and fond memories.

I made a right and kept driving; past her street, past the Indian restaurant we once ate, past Crystal Cove. I didn't have a plan. I just kept driving.

I remembered that morning as I drove home. Remembering how disappointed I was, how sad I was. It was the perfect start of a new year, a new beginning. I could recall there being alcohol on my breath. And bicyclists.

I entered Newport Beach, remembering other memories. And then it was back onto the 55 freeway and back to the 5.

It was a drive that passed the time while allowing me to revisit the past.

"Chips!"

I like it.

The Past Forming the Future

I've done some really amazing things in the past and had been pondering them for, maybe, the past week. Today, while I was taking a drive (I could've walked faster) out to the Valley I realized that those things I've done had been willed; I consciously made them happen. And, while they were happening, there was nothing that could get in the way of them happening.

So it got me to thinking. Can I do that again? Can I make the things I want really happen?

I've become bitter. In the past few years, I've gotten into this rut that has left me utterly negative. I think everyone is negative to a point but if negativity was an art form, I'd be Picasso, Rembrandt and Michelangelo all rolled into one. I've tried to be positive. I've gone through those stages asking the Universe to answer my calls of need and want (it's absurd, the Secret and the Law of Attraction). But, I've always reverted back to that which I was most comfortable. Times are changing however and I'm becoming more desperate. I'm in need of some serious change in my life. I guess this is as good a time and place as any to make it, right?

Right.

In the car, on the freeway, with an 80's movie soundtrack blaring (I won't name it for reasons only I should know), I began to recite positive affirmations to myself. Over and over again. I need to make things happen. And that is the start to the change I need.

Picture that change in your head and you move towards that change. That isn't the Law of Attraction. That's common sense.

So let's see what happens. Stay tuned, kids.

Tiger, Schmiger.. Who really cares?

So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

John 8:7

I'm not be the best person to quote scripture, nor am I the best person to speak about morality but this thing about Tiger Woods... it had me thinking. I quoted the bible passage I thought would be the most appropriate, because, who really has the right to judge Tiger anyway? What's more important, I think, is... who really cares?

As I listened to commentators who were covering the Masters saying how Tiger is this and Tiger is that, one of them had mentioned that Tiger is a role model. Really? A role model? Last time I checked, he was a golfer. One of the best in the world, but still a golfer. He hits a little white, dimpled ball into a hole. Eighteen of them. And, he gets paid for it. A lot. On top of that, he has endorsements (not as many as he used to but.. he still has Nike! See his latest ad?) that keep him in the chips. Nowhere within that job description does it say role model. And, I don't think he ever wanted to be a role model. He was pushed to become who he is today, by his father, by his peers and probably by himself. He is where is he is because he worked for it. But, the label of 'role model' was given to him by millions of people who feel his job is to lead by example.

So, when he was found to be a cheating, home-wrecking sex addict (who, by the way, has poor taste in women. What's up with that Tiger? Seriously?), all of a sudden he was thrust into another world; the world of temporary outcast. Within this world, one is placed upon another pedestal; a pedestal of rejection and ridicule.

Oh, I know that place very well. But, I'm not a billionaire golfer who can come back to the world by playing at the Masters. It took me a long time to shed my disgrace. It won't be that long for people to forget Tiger's inappropriate behaviour, especially if he wins.

People don't care. I sure don't. Not because I fooled with the devil's lust but because I don't hold Tiger to that of a role model. I don't see him as an example for children and goody goods. I see him as a man who is good at what he does and extremely lucky to be paid for it. I'd love to be able to make millions in things I like to do and am good at. But, I don't think playing online roleplaying games will ever pan out and I'm certainly not pornstar material. Tiger is what he is, a damn good golfer who loves teh sex0rz. Don't hold him to a higher standard because he's in the public eye. And certainly don't judge him because he's a dirty boy. Judge him on his short game, if you must, but who are you to judge him on his personal life? He who is without sin, remember? I'm not even a Christian and I understand the passage.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.

John 8:9

Go away. Leave Tiger to do what he needs to do. I'm tired of hearing about it and, I'm sure, many others are, too.

Break ups are hard to do

...especially over the phone.

It's not that I would do something like that. She called me. And, get this this, she told me that I was hiding something.. that I wasn't being forthright and that I was ashamed of her.

Well, maybe.. at least one of those is true. I was hiding something, but it didn't concern her.

I can't help that she had issues, that she had an esteem issue. But, this isn't all my doing. I don't know how it took her this long to figure out that I wasn't about to commit. Nonetheless, she did.

She can now pine/mourn/think about her dead fiance, Kevin. And I can move on..

I don't know if she realized it or not, but both she and I were rebounds anyway.

On the flipside.. as I write this, a small group of Disney Castmember homos are talking about guys they've dated or worked with.. Puhleeze.. I don't need to over-hear about the fuckers you've dated.. Small fish in a big pond.. thinking they're the shit or something.. Retards.

Heehee!

I'm a nihilist..

And I don't care.

If...

If there were a higher power, we as a people would not deserve its forgiveness, its salvation, its potential rewards.

We, as a people, are evil creatures. We deserve the opposite of any idea of heaven. We deserve to burn.

Just sayin'...