Jeremy and I had been hopping from bar to bar. We started at the Slide Bar, where a friend's band was playing. We decided to leave early, not because the band sucked but because the sound guy didn't know what he was doing. We were drinking heavily and it took its toll on my friend more than it did me; I was buzzing and he was spiraling into oblivion.
We had to get out and walk about.
We stopped by a local smoke shop. Jeremy bought some Djaram clove cigarettes and we both started smoking. It wasn't long before a pair of lovely young lasses asked if they could bum a smoke from us. The cute one had an accent. "Where are you from?" we asked.
"Russia." said her friend, as she tried to light her smoke in the wind.
I offered to light the Russian beauty's cigarette with my own as it was the only way. They thanked us and continued on their way. I continued to watch, seeing our opportunity to become friends (or more) die with each step away.
Jeremy sighed. I did, too, but on the inside. Needless to say, they were both attractive but the Russian was stunning.
We walked, passing mobs of young people crowding the sidewalks. Some were smoking while others just wanted to chat. Some were waiting to get into a bar; some were in an alcoholic daze. Many were just standing about wondering which club they were going to hit next.
I decided to hit a place I few frequent quite a bit: Brannigan's Irish pub. My friend and I sat down and ordered some drinks. A Cosmo for him (no, he isn't gay) and a gin and tonic for me.I had been drinking the entire night so the alcohol didn't phase me; if anything, I was more alert, with a bit of the hiccups to accompany me. Jeremy, however, was beginning to fade out.
We started talking about girls, the bar and the fine scenery of both when two girls sat down at the table next to us. Oh a great, a drunk "seven" (stating the level of attractiveness from a scale of one to ten) and her grenade friend. They introduce themselves but I quickly forget their names. It became a situation in which I need to extricate myself from the scene. Jeremy had thought the same thing and disappeared, discretely, without me knowing. The pretty one came on strong. Asked if I would by them a drink. Being polite, I did, but not before I was asked for a kiss or two. I obliged, not thinking twice about the situation. Of course, every sultry scenario crossed my mind during the brief moment. However, the need to find a way out surfaced fast and furiously.
"Waitress! Bring us whatever these two girls want." With that, the barmade was gone, my credit card in hand.
I excused myself from the table to find out where Jeremy had left to. I found it quite rude that he would leave me wingmanless. I said I'd be back in a moment. Frankly, I didn't know what my plan was.
I checked the bathrooms: he wasn't there. I checked the patio and, to my dismay, he was not there, either. I texted him and then dialed his cell. I wanted to know where he was so that I could figure out how to find my way out as well. Just as I called, the server approached me bill in hand. It was a relief beyond measure. I told her to serve the two girls without me. I tipped her generously and made my exit. I was free. Sometimes, Coyote Ugly means to pay a bar tab just to get away, even without the goods.
Saturday, July 07, 2012
Sunday, January 08, 2012
It's a new year. Already?
A new year and still the same old shit. It gets me sometimes that people often treat the passing of one year into the next as a means of starting over. To "start things anew."
I think it's bullshit.
Call me a cynic, a party-pooper, a Debbie Downer, I don't care. I am pragmatic. There is but one beginning and one ending with a linear timeline on which we traverse between those two points. There are no new starts or new beginnings to bad endings. Just points where one stops on the timeline, makes a modification and moves on. Sometimes, we refer to these as "resolutions."
I fail to see why one must wait until the 1st of the year (or week, month, whatever) to begin changing "for the better." Why can't one just change now? Procrastination is not a good thing, unless it's something one doesn't want to do in the first place.
I've been known to have these resolutions. Get thinner, be a nicer person, move out of this retched home... yes, I've had these as resolutions. But, in the end, it is a setup for failure. Why? Because there was never any intention of changing or fulfilling these resolutions. Time and effort was wasted on doing something that, in the back of the mind, was considered almost impossible.
So, here I am. The start of yet another year. A year I know will be terribad. Another year where I suffer when I shouldn't have to. Another year where each day is concluded with the thought of either killing myself or those around me. Or both, but in the end I talk myself down from that ledge because there's something better waiting for me at the end of this path. Something that will make all of the suffering worth it. Something greater.
At least, that's what I tell myself before I fall asleep. Because, if anything, each day is a new beginning and if one is going to change for the better, it should be the sart of each day. Not each year, or week or month. I don't know from which part of my arse I just pulled that out of but it sounds good. So, I'll stick with it.
I think it's bullshit.
Call me a cynic, a party-pooper, a Debbie Downer, I don't care. I am pragmatic. There is but one beginning and one ending with a linear timeline on which we traverse between those two points. There are no new starts or new beginnings to bad endings. Just points where one stops on the timeline, makes a modification and moves on. Sometimes, we refer to these as "resolutions."
I fail to see why one must wait until the 1st of the year (or week, month, whatever) to begin changing "for the better." Why can't one just change now? Procrastination is not a good thing, unless it's something one doesn't want to do in the first place.
I've been known to have these resolutions. Get thinner, be a nicer person, move out of this retched home... yes, I've had these as resolutions. But, in the end, it is a setup for failure. Why? Because there was never any intention of changing or fulfilling these resolutions. Time and effort was wasted on doing something that, in the back of the mind, was considered almost impossible.
So, here I am. The start of yet another year. A year I know will be terribad. Another year where I suffer when I shouldn't have to. Another year where each day is concluded with the thought of either killing myself or those around me. Or both, but in the end I talk myself down from that ledge because there's something better waiting for me at the end of this path. Something that will make all of the suffering worth it. Something greater.
At least, that's what I tell myself before I fall asleep. Because, if anything, each day is a new beginning and if one is going to change for the better, it should be the sart of each day. Not each year, or week or month. I don't know from which part of my arse I just pulled that out of but it sounds good. So, I'll stick with it.
Friday, October 14, 2011
I'm 40. OMG, REALLY?
So, it has passed. My birthday has come and gone and left me what I call the "Gift of Ages." It is the gift of middle age. I am now 40 and I am but a fraction closer to my goals as I was last year. But, this isn't really important right now. What is important is that I. am. forty. Forty. Let's say it together: four--teeeeee. No, I am not happy.
When one is young, one contemplates his or her future. At least, I think people do. We think about what we will do with our lives, how we expect our lives will be at 20, 30, 40 and so on. I thought that I would be pretty successful by my 40th birthday. Or, at least, independent and happy. But I am neither. Nor am I successful. I have a job making less than 10 dollars an hour. I justify this by saying I go to school. But I can't even get that right because I made the mistake of going to summer classes not prepared for the workload. That, with work, coupled with a shitty personal life (being an indentured servant), can take its toll on any able-bodied person.
I had this plan... to have the most awesome birthday party ever. It was to be epic. Drinking, dancing, music, drinking, friends, drinking and, well, drinking. It was going to be a party to mark the start of what people are calling the "new 20." Of course, it didn't happen. One cannot have fun in excess when there is no money to do it.
So, now I am 40, broke and kinda down and out. I see the whole Occupy WS movement going and I think to myself, I hoope it succeeds and everyone falls from grace. That way, it will be easier to be where I'm at. While I don't blame anyone else for the situation I'm in, it would be nice to have everyone at the same level so I don't feel as bad about myself as I do now.
When one is young, one contemplates his or her future. At least, I think people do. We think about what we will do with our lives, how we expect our lives will be at 20, 30, 40 and so on. I thought that I would be pretty successful by my 40th birthday. Or, at least, independent and happy. But I am neither. Nor am I successful. I have a job making less than 10 dollars an hour. I justify this by saying I go to school. But I can't even get that right because I made the mistake of going to summer classes not prepared for the workload. That, with work, coupled with a shitty personal life (being an indentured servant), can take its toll on any able-bodied person.
I had this plan... to have the most awesome birthday party ever. It was to be epic. Drinking, dancing, music, drinking, friends, drinking and, well, drinking. It was going to be a party to mark the start of what people are calling the "new 20." Of course, it didn't happen. One cannot have fun in excess when there is no money to do it.
So, now I am 40, broke and kinda down and out. I see the whole Occupy WS movement going and I think to myself, I hoope it succeeds and everyone falls from grace. That way, it will be easier to be where I'm at. While I don't blame anyone else for the situation I'm in, it would be nice to have everyone at the same level so I don't feel as bad about myself as I do now.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
When "I Love You" means nothing
I've said them. Those three words one says to his or her lover when those amorous feelings become apparent.
I love you.
I. Love. You.
But, I don't. Not really. At least, I don't think I do. Yet, I say them anyway. And, in a way, I mean it because... I don't know why. I mean, I care about her, I'd do almost anything for her but..
..and there's the "but".
I really don't think I'm in love with her.
I think we're playing this game with one another where we each tell each other that we love one another but we really don't mean it. There are unknown reasons why the relationship has to stay afloat and the L-word has to be used. Otherwise, everything falls apart. Unfortunately, I'm at that point where I'm not too concerned anymore how much things crumble and decay.
I hate when I've been drinking and I try to write something. It really doesn't make a bit of sense. At all.
Anyway, I'm not getting the feeling of love from her, nor am I really getting the feeling from myself. So, why am I still prolonging something that I know should die? And quickly.
Because I'm...
1) Lazy
I really don't want to end things because it's easy to maintain. Breakups involve feelings. Those feelings often get hurt. It doesn't matter whether or not people want to end the situation. Feelings will always get hurt. Even a little bit. Plus, it's easier to prolong something bad than ending it.
2) Horny
Don't judge.
3) Content
I really don't mind the situation I'm in. It's sex, companionship and the occasional dinner at a semi-decent restaurant. Even if I have to pay for it.
I've realized that I'm neither going to have a family or get married to this woman. And, every relationship I have makes me realize that maybe I want these things. But, I don't want it with the current person I'm dating. Then I'm reminded about past relationships and how they all seem to have gone on. A few are happily married, or will be married soon. One or two I wish I knew how they were doing.
Oh well. The beer has gotten the best of me. Again. One thing's for certain: it's time to start planning for the single life. It won't be immediate but, it will.. be. It's inevitable.
I love you.
I. Love. You.
But, I don't. Not really. At least, I don't think I do. Yet, I say them anyway. And, in a way, I mean it because... I don't know why. I mean, I care about her, I'd do almost anything for her but..
..and there's the "but".
I really don't think I'm in love with her.
I think we're playing this game with one another where we each tell each other that we love one another but we really don't mean it. There are unknown reasons why the relationship has to stay afloat and the L-word has to be used. Otherwise, everything falls apart. Unfortunately, I'm at that point where I'm not too concerned anymore how much things crumble and decay.
I hate when I've been drinking and I try to write something. It really doesn't make a bit of sense. At all.
Anyway, I'm not getting the feeling of love from her, nor am I really getting the feeling from myself. So, why am I still prolonging something that I know should die? And quickly.
Because I'm...
1) Lazy
I really don't want to end things because it's easy to maintain. Breakups involve feelings. Those feelings often get hurt. It doesn't matter whether or not people want to end the situation. Feelings will always get hurt. Even a little bit. Plus, it's easier to prolong something bad than ending it.
2) Horny
Don't judge.
3) Content
I really don't mind the situation I'm in. It's sex, companionship and the occasional dinner at a semi-decent restaurant. Even if I have to pay for it.
I've realized that I'm neither going to have a family or get married to this woman. And, every relationship I have makes me realize that maybe I want these things. But, I don't want it with the current person I'm dating. Then I'm reminded about past relationships and how they all seem to have gone on. A few are happily married, or will be married soon. One or two I wish I knew how they were doing.
Oh well. The beer has gotten the best of me. Again. One thing's for certain: it's time to start planning for the single life. It won't be immediate but, it will.. be. It's inevitable.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Just another day.. at the bar.
So, it's another one of those days wher I am sitting at a bar, before my scheduled work shift, waiting for the time to pass and wondering, once again, why the fuck is my life so goddamned crappy?
Words fail me at this point, but the emotions are pretty true. I can't for the life me figure out how to translate them to words.
I mean, I should be kinda happy. I made up with the girl I was dating. We are now officially boyfriend/girlfriend. This is to make sure we are exclusive (I guess the reason for her seeing another guy was.. we weren't). Yeah, it's okay, I guess. I'll get over that. But what I can't get over is the home life I endure each and every day. I'm living the Dragon Mom experience with the family I rent a room from. I swear to Christ that one day I will snap and things will most definitely go nuclear in that house. It's this environment that I am forced to live in. Yes, forced. It is not a situation I can readily leave. No money, no credit, no life. It makes for a difficult transition upwards and onwards.
This makes me terribly angry. And I don't know how much longer this anger can remain in check. My priority is finishing school. The next one is getting out of that living situation. I'm beginning to wonder if my priorities are screwed up. I'm beginning to question my judgment.
So, I am sitting at this bar, waiting for my scheduled shift to start, hoping that, one day, I will get out of this alive because, if I don't, no one will.
I've never typed a blog post on my phone before. I think I will keep that to a minimum.
Words fail me at this point, but the emotions are pretty true. I can't for the life me figure out how to translate them to words.
I mean, I should be kinda happy. I made up with the girl I was dating. We are now officially boyfriend/girlfriend. This is to make sure we are exclusive (I guess the reason for her seeing another guy was.. we weren't). Yeah, it's okay, I guess. I'll get over that. But what I can't get over is the home life I endure each and every day. I'm living the Dragon Mom experience with the family I rent a room from. I swear to Christ that one day I will snap and things will most definitely go nuclear in that house. It's this environment that I am forced to live in. Yes, forced. It is not a situation I can readily leave. No money, no credit, no life. It makes for a difficult transition upwards and onwards.
This makes me terribly angry. And I don't know how much longer this anger can remain in check. My priority is finishing school. The next one is getting out of that living situation. I'm beginning to wonder if my priorities are screwed up. I'm beginning to question my judgment.
So, I am sitting at this bar, waiting for my scheduled shift to start, hoping that, one day, I will get out of this alive because, if I don't, no one will.
I've never typed a blog post on my phone before. I think I will keep that to a minimum.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sometimes, I don't understand
So, yesterday, I found out the woman I was dating was seeing someone else. Unfortunately, I had to find out by snooping through her new phone. She had passed out drunk and I took the opportunity to check my gut feeling on the matter. And, my gut was right.
Now, I know it was wrong to look through her phone, but she would've never found out had I not found anything incriminating. Of course, it was the first thing she said when I confronted her about it -- "I can't believe you snooped through my phone!"
Yeah? Well, I can't believe you're fucking some coke-head Mexican from your job!
I think the most shocking aspect was the pic on her phone of her with this huge hickey. I mean, it's something more than I would have ever given her, even on purpose. It seemed she was real proud of it, too.
What I don't understand about this situation is.. why the fuck would one keep one guy strung along while nurturing a new relationship? I mean, regardless of the fact that she wasn't interested in exclusivity, shouldn't she be so inclined to let me know this? And, shouldn't she be so inclined as to let me know that she is dating someone else? I mean, she said she should've told me but didn't. She even lied to me about things until I confronted her.
I'm terribly angry, yet I'm so relieved that our "relationship" is finally over. I think, as time progresses, I will go through the stages of grief. How can I not? I just hope they go by quickly.
I'd like to think that my debt to bad karma has now been paid. I hope that things will go better for me in the future. Not that I believe in karma or anything.
Now, I know it was wrong to look through her phone, but she would've never found out had I not found anything incriminating. Of course, it was the first thing she said when I confronted her about it -- "I can't believe you snooped through my phone!"
Yeah? Well, I can't believe you're fucking some coke-head Mexican from your job!
I think the most shocking aspect was the pic on her phone of her with this huge hickey. I mean, it's something more than I would have ever given her, even on purpose. It seemed she was real proud of it, too.
What I don't understand about this situation is.. why the fuck would one keep one guy strung along while nurturing a new relationship? I mean, regardless of the fact that she wasn't interested in exclusivity, shouldn't she be so inclined to let me know this? And, shouldn't she be so inclined as to let me know that she is dating someone else? I mean, she said she should've told me but didn't. She even lied to me about things until I confronted her.
I'm terribly angry, yet I'm so relieved that our "relationship" is finally over. I think, as time progresses, I will go through the stages of grief. How can I not? I just hope they go by quickly.
I'd like to think that my debt to bad karma has now been paid. I hope that things will go better for me in the future. Not that I believe in karma or anything.
Friday, January 07, 2011
Free Write
Postule nodes
And made-up words all jumbled inside
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
And reckless abandonment
But not really
Really?
A million miles a minute but still stuck in that same hopeless spot
as a second ago not really knowing where I'm going
And not knowing where I've been
But knowing I'm going nowhere
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
The same caddywumpkins and the same hickerdoodles
The same bullshit on this different day
And I'm swirling like ice cream and grape juice
In a stainless steel blender
Disgusting but probably tasty
That same sweet taste as yesterday but gone tomorrow
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
Lopsided crunchymunch
Teleopop kisses
In a psychostatic wonderland of rorschach tests
Ink blots and bitches
A vagina in every stain
Really?
Me-oh-my
Because hirly and tirly are so yesterday
Bebopping to the jazz of a hundred plus years of mind-numbing bumping
That low-frequency thumping
I don't know what's coming
Oh yeah
Here we go on that epileptic journey of one thousands shakes
And no memory to show for it
All chumfuzzery with a bacon-filled dream and
Two lazy eclairs filled with someone else's priorities
But fimdiddlyful of tastiness nonetheless
Because that's what makes the million miles a minute roll like sushi on Sunday
And the rice sticky to the touch
And that feeling you get after masticating
It's dirty
Me-oh-motherfucking-tirly-my
Kaleidoscope minds are working full-time
But moving at a snail's pace in this hell hole
That hope is still there but can you blame me for not trying?
Cumdilliasms and minor twitchfissures
OMG and WTF?!
Time to harness those beasts inside
Or should they be let loose?
Out onto the sea of light green metaphors and purple waves of
I don't know... hickory? Chutney?
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
Just another fucking day in a blender
Blending but without the ingredients that make
For a great milkshake
And I don't know what I'm saying anymore
It's all just saccharin sweet and cancer-causing
But it's okay because the phizzlean peacock and
the motionless monsters watch
It's all about the sacred cow
You know?
And the blue Hawaiian punch but without the
Azure tint and the electrifying taste
It's bland
But the Kool-Aid man always says "Oh Yeah!"
Me-Twiddlee-Dee
Exhausted
And made-up words all jumbled inside
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
And reckless abandonment
But not really
Really?
A million miles a minute but still stuck in that same hopeless spot
as a second ago not really knowing where I'm going
And not knowing where I've been
But knowing I'm going nowhere
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
The same caddywumpkins and the same hickerdoodles
The same bullshit on this different day
And I'm swirling like ice cream and grape juice
In a stainless steel blender
Disgusting but probably tasty
That same sweet taste as yesterday but gone tomorrow
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
Lopsided crunchymunch
Teleopop kisses
In a psychostatic wonderland of rorschach tests
Ink blots and bitches
A vagina in every stain
Really?
Me-oh-my
Because hirly and tirly are so yesterday
Bebopping to the jazz of a hundred plus years of mind-numbing bumping
That low-frequency thumping
I don't know what's coming
Oh yeah
Here we go on that epileptic journey of one thousands shakes
And no memory to show for it
All chumfuzzery with a bacon-filled dream and
Two lazy eclairs filled with someone else's priorities
But fimdiddlyful of tastiness nonetheless
Because that's what makes the million miles a minute roll like sushi on Sunday
And the rice sticky to the touch
And that feeling you get after masticating
It's dirty
Me-oh-motherfucking-tirly-my
Kaleidoscope minds are working full-time
But moving at a snail's pace in this hell hole
That hope is still there but can you blame me for not trying?
Cumdilliasms and minor twitchfissures
OMG and WTF?!
Time to harness those beasts inside
Or should they be let loose?
Out onto the sea of light green metaphors and purple waves of
I don't know... hickory? Chutney?
Hirly Tirly
Me-oh-my
Just another fucking day in a blender
Blending but without the ingredients that make
For a great milkshake
And I don't know what I'm saying anymore
It's all just saccharin sweet and cancer-causing
But it's okay because the phizzlean peacock and
the motionless monsters watch
It's all about the sacred cow
You know?
And the blue Hawaiian punch but without the
Azure tint and the electrifying taste
It's bland
But the Kool-Aid man always says "Oh Yeah!"
Me-Twiddlee-Dee
Exhausted
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Holy shit! A new decade??!
Well, it looks like we're on the start of yet another decade. And I didn't even notice the first. Where the fuck does the time go? Having not accomplished anything the first 10 years of the 2000's, I think I should put down some goals for the coming year, if not the next 10.
Move out of this fucking house
I don't know if I've shared this or not but I live in a home with a family of 7 (two adults and 5 kids). Children range in age from 12 years old to 10 months. Two words can adaquately describe my feelings about this situation: fucking hell. Of course, I can't complain about the price of it all. It's free. My friend allows me to live here as long as I help out around the house, watch the kids sometimes and do things like.. well, everything. I've given up my privacy, social life, pride and my sanity just to live in this household. Is it worth it? Absolutely not. I think this is what it feels like to have sold one's soul to the devil.
Finish school
I think I live in such a horrid environment because my one and only goal for the immediate future is to finish my college education. Like most stupid 20-somethings, my priorities when I was younger were in a different place. Being young and stupid does have its consequences. So, in my late [muffle muffle]'s, I've decided that the most important task for me to complete is to get my degree. This, more than anything, is for personal achievement. I mean, where am I going to use a philosophy degree anyway? I don't even think I'll be able to get a job managing a Taco Bell with my credentials. There's a conflict in that I want out of my home situation now but it's going to take me 2 more years to complete my Bachelor's program. Maybe I'll actually try and sell my soul to the devil. It couldn't be any worse than this (I wonder if I can consign my soul).
Restart on the road to a more physically-fit me
I've done this every year since I was an embryo. Trying to get back into shape so that I can look and feel better (and get the hot chicks. Yeah!). Each year it has got harder and harder to do, especially at my old age. This year, it's no different. But, different from other years, I'm going to try this time. I don't have too many years left; my skin is starting to lose its elasticity. Maybe I should drink more water, too.
Relaunch my web and print efforts
I once had a thriving print and web zine where I wrote some really good articles, got to see some really good films and had the opportunity to talk to some really cool people. I think it's time to relaunch the effort. I mean, I have the time. I ain't gots no job. Ya know?
So, I guess I shall look at the new year with positivity. I'll keep my chin up and my feet to the ground, while keeping my cynicism and negativity in check. Some say that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. And while that light for me is still a pin prick in the fabric of darkness, it's there. And god damn it, I will eventually reach the end of this hellacious journey. One way or another.
My secondary goal, if all else fails: win the Lotto.
Move out of this fucking house
I don't know if I've shared this or not but I live in a home with a family of 7 (two adults and 5 kids). Children range in age from 12 years old to 10 months. Two words can adaquately describe my feelings about this situation: fucking hell. Of course, I can't complain about the price of it all. It's free. My friend allows me to live here as long as I help out around the house, watch the kids sometimes and do things like.. well, everything. I've given up my privacy, social life, pride and my sanity just to live in this household. Is it worth it? Absolutely not. I think this is what it feels like to have sold one's soul to the devil.
Finish school
I think I live in such a horrid environment because my one and only goal for the immediate future is to finish my college education. Like most stupid 20-somethings, my priorities when I was younger were in a different place. Being young and stupid does have its consequences. So, in my late [muffle muffle]'s, I've decided that the most important task for me to complete is to get my degree. This, more than anything, is for personal achievement. I mean, where am I going to use a philosophy degree anyway? I don't even think I'll be able to get a job managing a Taco Bell with my credentials. There's a conflict in that I want out of my home situation now but it's going to take me 2 more years to complete my Bachelor's program. Maybe I'll actually try and sell my soul to the devil. It couldn't be any worse than this (I wonder if I can consign my soul).
Restart on the road to a more physically-fit me
I've done this every year since I was an embryo. Trying to get back into shape so that I can look and feel better (and get the hot chicks. Yeah!). Each year it has got harder and harder to do, especially at my old age. This year, it's no different. But, different from other years, I'm going to try this time. I don't have too many years left; my skin is starting to lose its elasticity. Maybe I should drink more water, too.
Relaunch my web and print efforts
I once had a thriving print and web zine where I wrote some really good articles, got to see some really good films and had the opportunity to talk to some really cool people. I think it's time to relaunch the effort. I mean, I have the time. I ain't gots no job. Ya know?
So, I guess I shall look at the new year with positivity. I'll keep my chin up and my feet to the ground, while keeping my cynicism and negativity in check. Some say that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. And while that light for me is still a pin prick in the fabric of darkness, it's there. And god damn it, I will eventually reach the end of this hellacious journey. One way or another.
My secondary goal, if all else fails: win the Lotto.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
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!
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!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
So..
Not having a car really sucks balls. Anyone reading this crap should know - public transportation sucks ass.
I miss my car.
I miss my car.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
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....
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....
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I Write Like....
orly?
I write like
David Foster Wallace
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/.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
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.
Love: HIGH FIDELITY.
Hate: Happy ending. Fuck that!
John Cusack, you're a god.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
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.
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.
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