If Only It Was Tuesday

I really don't know where it came from.

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 04:01:15 GMT

So guess what, you claim you can't help yourself
But you and I both know better
You're self-diseased, self-inflicted
Self-deluded and far from properly medicated
You drown your problems in whatever you grab first

So let's try this again, properly honest
With yourself and everyone else you say you can't help but lie to
You and I both know they deserve better
I'm well beyond sick of your constant blaming
It's about time you owned up for what you do

Keep lying to yourself
You're not fooling any of us
You're glass all the same;
Easily broken and transparent

So how does it feel, to live in a prison
You've spent the last few years creating
Weaving, solidifying with lies, deceit and misdirection
Now it's your own self-diseased, self-inflicted
Self-created, selfish cell

So keep building bridges and burning buildings
Cause in the end you'll have roads to where you want to go
But nothing left once you get there
They'll be empty just like the lies you've left
For the rest of us

Keep lying to yourself
You're not fooling any of us
You're glass all the same;
Easily broken and transparent

Fri, 13 Mar 2009 22:13:32 GMT

I wonder if you do this on purpose
Do everything I hate
In the cutest way
It makes you so hard to ignore

Fri, 13 Mar 2009 22:11:35 GMT

Hello
I swear I've met you before
Once upon a time
Once upon a lifetime
But you and I both know
How impossible that has to be
Because times like these
Only happen once

It seems so cliche
Serendipity's own guided hand

Sat, 21 Feb 2009 15:41:03 GMT

Apparently the BBC reckons most people will have only read 6 of the 100 books here.
Instructions:
1) Look at the list and put an 'x' after those you have read.
2) Add a '+' to the ones you LOVE.
3) Star (*) those you plan on reading.
4) Tally your total at the bottom.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee (X)
6 The Bible-
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte (X)
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell (X)
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller (Tried to, but couldn't get into it)
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (A few of them)
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien (X)
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger (X+)
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger (*)
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald (X)
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (X+)
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell (X)
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown (X)
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley (X+)
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas (X)
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville (never finished, the chapter on whale biology killed it for me)
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert (X)
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White (X)
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery (X++++++) :D
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare (X)
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl (X)
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Hey 18...not as well versed as I'd hoped, but I'm better than your average dolt :P

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 17:46:20 GMT

Well, I haven't written an entry in forever, it would appear, as I'm no longer finding the energy to detail the minutia that is my life. However, I had a pretty spiffy dream last night that I actually remembered and had to document. It was pretty prolific and very direct in its imagery and meaning.

Essentially, on my mother's property was another house further in the back, that, from the outside appeared to be an exact replica of the house she currently lives in. It was our "old house" as it were. The electricity had been cut off in it for quite some time.

Anyways, I went back to it, attempting to find some old things of mine, and as far as I can tell, I went looking for old items relating/reminding me of Heather. I went into the house in the middle of the night, and as soon as I walked into the front door, I was essentially in this long, darkened hallway. I tried the first two doors on either side of the hallway to find them locked and steadfastly stuck.

The 2nd door on the right opened up, but due to the darkness, I couldn't see a damn thing. I pulled out my cellphone to use as a light source while I felt the majority of my direction out. It appeared to be a bedroom of sorts, made from my old bed I had in my parents house and two copies of my old nightstand. I went to the nightstand on the right side of my bed and opened up the bottom drawer and pulled out all kinds of old things I associated with college/high school. I found a handheld light in there that I turned on, but it was relatively dim and soon died out. Other than that, there were some old pieces of clothing I remember she wore, like a shirt or two, and some pictures that were never taken (but were memories I have), but the light wouldn't stay on long enough for me to identify them completely. It would always dim out and go to darkness right before I could.

I got up, and left the items there on the floor, and moved back into the hallway, the end of which was radiating a dull glow. I walked down to the last door and into the final room to see an exact replica of my mother's bedroom. It was left the same way it was before my parents divorced, except on my mother's side of the bed as a single lit candle. I paced around for a few minutes, taking most of it in, then turned to leave. The dream ended as I was walking back down the dim hallway towards the front door as the light slowly faded.

So, themes and whatnot!

1) Old house on our property = my house of memories/the house of what used to be my life with my parents in high school/college...yay.
2) Locked doors, memories that i no longer have access to, or want anything to do with.
3) The fading light by heather's items = my brain finalizing the removal of the importance of Heather as a part of my life/realizing that those memories aren't nearly as important, hold as much value as they used to
4) Parent's old bedroom with the single lit candle on my mother's side of the bed = my mother still emotionally holding onto the marriage she and my dad once had.

Tada, hooray directly translatable dreams.

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 23:54:49 GMT

I've forgotten more
Than you'll have a chance to remember
I'm as old as time
And half as young as you.

Thu, 20 Nov 2008 21:41:03 GMT

The 360 just came out with a new dashboard. It let me design myself. This is about as close as I could come:

I guess it's close.

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 22:36:47 GMT

This must be what growing up feels like...

I attended one day's worth of a Community Services Array Conference today at the convention center in town today. It was essentially an opening keynote meeting, and 3 targeted concurrent classes. Now I know how my dad must have felt going to those corporate meetings and whatnot. The feeling was rather sudden, as I sat there waiting for my director to show up for registration. Wow...I'm sitting here at a convention center for a statewide mental health conference. While boring as hell, it was informative, and at least one of the classes was quite helpful. Now, of course, I'm mentally drained.

I've pretty much exhausted my bitching quota for the next year, and to be honest, I just don't feel like bitching anymore. I'm sure this means some sort of acceptance of the horrible truth on my part, which has taken about 2-3 weeks, as previously described in my spiral flowchart. I pretty much verbally exploded to two sets of people yesterday.

After two nights of minimal sleep due to my upstairs neighbors (new?) dog howling from approximately 5am until I left, I called the apartment office and lodged a complaint. Last night was blissfully howl-less. However, they did start their radio at some insanely loud volume at around 5:30, which prompted The Broom (TM). The radio promptly stopped and I went back to sleep.

I also chewed out one very unfortunate service representative from Firestone after more bullshit with my car the other day. I managed to get them to knock about $80 off the total price of the fix after some not so nice words. However, they were unable to fix the problem, which requires the dealer's expertise, so I settled for paying $0 and getting a free oil change. Eh, life goes on.

Tomorrow's Friday. Fuck yeah.

Tue, 11 Nov 2008 01:21:17 GMT

As long as you're there, laying next to me, I know there's no way terror will find me in the night. But the other nights, those alone in the empty expanses of my room; the cold spot where you are supposed to be -- that's when even the blankets don't take away the chills. You might think I'm shivering from the cold, but that couldn't be further from the truth. It's the loneliness, the emptiness, that creeps into my very being, dances up my spine, caresses my skin, and leaves my entire essence on edge and so very aware of your distinct lack of presence.

You may call it my apartment, my residence, my home, my place to stay, but only I know what it truly is -- a prison, a self-imposed cage.

The hardest truths are those that you refuse to admit, those that you refuse to acknowledge even exist -- the ones that change your definition of who you are, who you thought you were. When did I become so dependent on people? I spent my years thriving on solitude, making it my home. Why do I suddenly feel like this isn't my home anymore? Suddenly the house I've constructed for myself is made instead of wrought iron. When did I build the lock? And who the hell did I give the key to?

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 18:56:24 GMT

Written 11/7/08

Wish upon the wind, let Nature spread your dreams to the corners of the Earth. Much like She carries seeds to their new home, she can bear the weight of your hopes and carry them, along with you, to your home. Let go of restraint, direction, purpose, and let Her guide you.

Can you feel it? It's coming. Slowly but unrelenting. Step after step. The essence of consistency. Soon it will be upon us. You won't notice at first; it will bleed slowly into your dreams, your unconscious. A light breath on the back of your neck, a shadow in your peripheral. It will consume you. There is no resistance.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 21:44:01 GMT

It's amusing at times to liken yourself to something inanimate or even intangible. It's reverse personification almost. Lately I've been feeling akin to quicksand; one foot in is enough. Any and all frantic attempts to escape will allow you to only realize your demise that much quicker. By the same token, calm and strategic attempts could allow you to survive.

More often than not, when I turn all of my attention inwards, it's usually comforting, but as of late it's turning out more traumatic than helpful. I also feel like my mood is reflexive of the combined average moods of those people I associate with on a regular basis and with Jess being constantly stressed and burned out, Eric fluctuating in and out of that state and my sister being there as well, it makes it that much easier for me to slip into it as well. The closest word I can think of to describe it is empath, but without the paranormal connotations already attached to that word.

I've been brain dumping all day on here in an attempt to subvert the mounting stress and unhappiness that I feel rising within me. I'm at a stage in my depression flowchart that I don't reach all too often, but I am aware at where things go from here. Let's see if I can give a quick overview for better understanding:

1. Did a bad thing happen?
a) No. End of depression spiral.
b) Yes. Goto 2.

2. Did another bad thing happen?
a) No. End of depression spiral.
b) Yes. Goto 3.

3. Were these two events, when combined, enough to be overwhelming?
a) No. End of depression spiral.
b) Yes. Goto 4.

4. Watch as more bad things continue to amass. Begin freaking out. Goto 5.

5. Panic. Goto 6.

6. Calm down. Panic. Goto 7.

7. Frantically search for a solution. Goto 8.

8. Was a solution found?
a) No. Goto 9.
b) Yes. End of depression spiral.

9. Frantically review options and see if something was missed. Was anything missed?
a) Yes. End of depression spiral.
b) No. Goto 10.

10. Begin depression loop. Execute following commands:
a) Sleep more.
b) Eat more.
c) Stop cleaning up apartment and allow clutter to build.
d) Complain constantly to everyone who will listen.
e) Wallow.
f) Self-depreciate.
g) Give up.

Conditions necessary to exit loop:
1) Has a solution been found?
2) Have you come to terms with the horrible truth?
3) Has it been about two weeks?
If any of the above 3 conditions are true, Goto 11. Otherwise, Goto 10.

11. End Depression Spiral. Clean apartment with lunatic zeal. Tone down eating, resume regular sleep schedule, end self-depreciation and pity. Begin taking steps to resolve problem and cope APPROPRIATELY with the problems at hand.

And that's my depression spiral, shortened slightly and put with some programming lingo, but it should be enough to be understood. It's fun and I can't stop doing it! So I'm currently in step 10, looping until I can cope with what's going on. It usually is encompassed by massive brooding and unhappiness.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 19:11:39 GMT

I declare I don't care no more
I'm burning up and out and growing bored...

I'm not growing up
I'm just burning out
And I stepped in line
to walk amongst the dead

Apathy has rained on me
Now I'm feeling like a soggy dream
So close to drowning but I don't mind
I've lived inside this mental cave
Throw my emotions in the grave
Hell, who needs them anyway

--Green Day, "Burnout"

Do you ever thing back to another time?
Does it bring you so down that you thought you lost you're mind?
Do you ever want to lead a long trail of destruction
and mow down any bullshit that confronts you?
Do you ever build up all the small things in your head?
To make one problem that adds up to nothing
To me its nothing...

--Green Day, "Having a Blast"

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 18:43:40 GMT

Let me be the first to assure you, existentialism is exhausting. I'm honestly not sure how the vanguards of the movement could sustain their living on a daily basis while pondering the meaning of their own existence on a daily basis.

I'm sure it's quite curious how I've arrived at such a conjecture. It began while I was brooding about money, due to my car's amazing super power of breaking down at the worst possible time, compounding my monetary issues into something akin to theoretical calculus. Not only this, but my car can combine its impeccable sense of timing with its ability to break the most expensive part possible (or more often than not, parts), thereby maximizing its results.

First my car got stuck in park last week. I finally managed to convince it that it wanted to be un-parked through various complex body movements, grunts and incantations involving four letter words. The following day, my car decides it just doesn't want to start. Using the aforementioned technique, I manage to convince the tiny squirrels inside to LIVE once again and move my car to have it assessed.

The damage: $400 for a new starter and $250 for a new parking solenoid. I argued them down to $310 for the starter, but that's all I could afford. Now I'm hoping the parking solenoid will hold out for another 2 weeks so that my money issues don't break down into something Einstein can't even decipher.

All of these well-timed pains cause me to brood, as they often do, about my life. This of course led into thoughts about my job, and then further into my future. Here's where the existentialism came in...either way, it annoyed me because I feel purposeless and it's driving me insane. Furthermore, my car's timing has also complicated monetary issues to where I can't take the GRE when I was planning, which complicates things further by not allowing me to get in my grad school applications on time, which totally screws up whatever plan I had for my future that was going to be set in motion next year.

Which is depressing and makes me feel like I'm not going to move forward at all.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 16:43:28 GMT

So good luck, with not forgetting who you are, even though it seems you have to
Good luck, finding your own way, not settling in where you're not happy
Good luck, remembering it's only life
Good luck, not following what you don't believe in
Good luck, seeing many problems are only a big deal if you make them...

So good luck, being someone who can always help someone out
Good luck, in remembering how much you can affect someone else
Good luck with not being selfish
Good luck with not being alone
Good luck in this world we're all just trying to get along
Good luck with not getting caught up
Good luck with not getting stressed
Good luck with figuring things out
Good luck with doing your best
Good luck with not losing yourself
Good luck for standing for what's right
Good luck for being happy when you sit to review your life

--Big D and the Kids Table - {Good Luck}

Mon, 27 Oct 2008 17:45:07 GMT

You think you have it hard? Try being a Monday. You are the ultimate buzzkill, the ubiquitous reminder of responsibility. It is your job and yours alone to reign in those set free by Friday. It is you who must brave the throngs of the feral, for if left alone, the world would fall into chaos. You are the bearer of order, the great restorer, and whilst your job is the most difficult, it is the most important. All other days concede to the might of your power and prowess amongst the billions. And while all may hate you, never forget that you are the provider of unity. You alone unite the wild against a common enemy; you provide every other day with its purpose. So arise, Monday, and heed your destiny; it's time to bring the sheep in from the fields.

Stop.

When you think about it, time stops for no man. How much time then is wasted on monotony and repetition?

How much time then is wasted?

Wasted?

Even further, time is a creation of man.

A creation.

We created these ways to measure and enumerate all we've lost and what little we've left.

We created.

All we've lost.

Little we've left.

Time is a self-made prison.

Self-made.

Prison.

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 23:15:17 GMT

Rememberance

Just pick one cool Autumn eve
We stand under the canopy of trees
Shivered slightly at the pickup of breeze
And laughed as it started raining leaves

Words cannot possibly define
The fierce beauty as nature unwinds
The seconds past, left in time
The seconds passed, not left behind

These are the moments to never forget
To be nostalgic over, reminisce a bit
They become your life, help define it
This is the beauty of life; it never quits

10/21/2008

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 03:26:01 GMT

"In the deserted harbour, there is yet water that laps against the quays. In the dark and silent forest there is a leaf that falls. Behind the polished panelling the white ant eats away the wood. Nothing is ever quiet, except for fools."

Alan Paton, Cry the Beloved Country

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 05:43:34 GMT

The majority of the time I'm grateful for my memories and the bits of the past I do manage to keep with me. And I'm sure that as I get older those will accrue more value, like some sort of emotional interest. And when I'm old and grey and have nothing and no one left, they will be what keeps me going.

However, there are also days like today; difficult days where I wish I could forget many of those memories because of how they make me feel in the present. Where you spend your empty time daydreaming about days past and better times, even if they weren't necessarily better. I know that my memory is quite selective when it comes to nostalgia and I selectively ignore all of the negative experiences, but that's why it's called nostalgia.

I had an overwhelming feeling of loneliness today that just couldn't be combated by bowling with Cheely, watching tv, wandering out amongst the people, or forgetting about it by engrossing myself in video games or movies. I feel behind most of my peers and I feel like I've naught to show for the past three years of my life. The funny part is I actually do, but that logic was never able to fell the notion I had locked in my head. I think I'm finally ready to settle down with someone, and that's simultaneously terrifying and euphoric. However, I'm also not completely sure that I'm so enthralled with it because my eyes are being shaded by my loneliness.

I often feel "behind" most of my peers in terms of lifetime milestones. Approximately 90% of the "friends" I've made over the years are currently married and/or have children. I can see myself married, but I'm not so sure about the child department yet. That's unendingly frightening. I can barely take care of myself; I'm afraid of what I'd fail miserably at when it came to taking care of someone else.

Graduate school and the GRE are still very, very scary and continue to haunt me. I'm terrified about taking the GRE and not making it into graduate school. I'm further terrified of trying to make this whole stunt work.

My loneliness was further solidified just recently as I walked out to my car to fetch my work phone, which I had left in there. The temperature, the lighting, the silent night air, all of it was reminiscent of freshman year. I took a multitude of walks at all hours of the morning, sometimes alone, sometimes not. I sighed audibly on the way back to my apartment, cause it just encompassed my feelings for the entire day. I really do miss what I had. I need to get the hell over it and finish growing up.

But therein lies the problem. I can't stand my life being SSDD. It's not what I want. It drives me to insanity, and yet here I am stuck in it.

That's what this whole graduate school thing is an attempt at rectifying.

C'est la vie.

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 22:00:09 GMT

As an aside, I should make sure to document more of my depressing thoughts and times because, frankly, I'm getting tired of finding all this old shit where I'm so god damned happy. Not because I'm jaded and cynical now, but because it makes me feel like I'll never be quite that happy quite that often again and that's a depressing thought. I want to be able to live my life now and look towards the future, I really do, but it's a struggle sometimes when you spend most of your day alone.

I hate being alone. I hate being lonely. I hate right now.

I found some old poetry excerpts I shall now document.

Sitting alone with you
I think this is perfect
Don't you?
We'll talk for hours
And count the stars
I think this is perfection
From afar
The sun's coming up
I don't think I'll wake you up
You can sleep on my shoulder forever

What's funny is that when I mentioned loneliness, I thought about being with Jess and the first line that came to mind way "I think this is perfect, don't you?"

I hadn't even opened the document yet to resurrect these pieces. I'm awesome.

I guess I’ll just have fail again
To learn my lesson

Over and over again
I’m a mistake in motion
Ruin in constant rotation
I’m tired of being on repeat…

Also, re-reading these makes me realize I don't suck at writing.

These are the moments I cherish, the ones when you lay in my arms and your heartbeat echoes mine, when no words need to be spoken because we already understand.

How many times can I say I’m sorry?
I’ve said it more times than I can count
And I’m so very afraid that the next time
I just might not mean it

Besides we have forever...
Unless you plan to die tomorrow

I wish I had something to say, anything at all, because something's more than nothing, and I'm nothing at all.

It's so much easier
Living in the past
Than living right now
Even if I hate to admit it

That seems like a good one to end on....rather appropriate too, considering that was my original musing point and that pieced happened to be buried in there.

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 19:00:08 GMT

What are journals but the collections of lies we tell no one else? Or are they the lies we only tell ourselves?

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 20:23:32 GMT

Every small step I take is one step away from you and one step closer to where I want to be.

Stand outside in the middle of the next violent storm and be wrapped in the beauty of the kiss of a thousand drops of rain.

I've always wondered why I make the same mistakes, but the answer is simple; those are the ones I've chosen to forget as many times as I've made them.

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 17:58:35 GMT

You know, I've come a long way...

The only downside is, I'm doing everything 4 years later than I should have. Everything I should have done in high school I did in college, and everything I should have done in college I'm doing now. What's funny is I'm enjoying it regardless.

In terms of development, it's amazing how socially adept I've become in the last 10 years. Granted it's been a slow and gradual process, but it's been steady and I'm far from finished. However, I can hold my own in a room full of strange people, and this both pleases, disturbs, and amuses me. Compare this to the me from high school who associated with no one, made no eye contact or introductions and chose paths that ensured the most social avoidance. Now I attend monthly house parties with strangers I've never met and engage readily and have a great time.

It's a welcome change to not constantly overanalyze every social interaction constantly judging it for awkwardness. It's nice to just say something funny, have people laugh, and move on. Previous it was some sort of internal argument with myself...

"Why'd you say that?"
I didn't say that, you did!
"You thought it, it was stupid!"
Well then why'd you say it?
"It sounded great when you told it to me!"
It's too late now, they're all looking at us weird.
"Oh god, they are...what do we do, what do we do?"
Tell another joke?
"Hell no! We need an excuse to leave for a bit to draw attention away from us!"
Excuse me, restroom break.

Mmmmm self-depreciation is fun times.

Sat, 13 Sep 2008 03:09:37 GMT

You know, there's one feeling in this world that never stops sucking. The one where you're a terrible significant other.

Way to go Marc, way to go.

Brood Writing.

Thu, 11 Sep 2008 21:27:56 GMT

I am the God of my reality. I alone determine what I perceive and believe. I am responsible for the salvation or damnation of all within my realm. I choose which thoughts live and which are locked away, or worse, erased from existence.

I am the tyrant of my reality. My word is law and none shall object. A single minded simpleton with extremist ideals forcing all to my will and beliefs. I choose the lives of my thoughts and feelings.

I am a citizen of my reality. I live amongst my thoughts, forming meaningful relationships with them, succeeding with them, failing with them, growing with them, living with them, dying with them. We are as one.

I am a slave of my reality. It is I who is weighed, measured, and found unfit to carry on. It is they who decide if I live, am locked away, or worse, am erased from existence. What can this fallen God do? What power does a slave hold against the masses? He who once commanded must now obey. Now my existence could be my damnation...

If only I'd known this feeling when I was in control. The thoughts wasted, forgotten, sacrificed, murdered, and to what end? This is the punishment for my trespasses. It is not my thoughts that were to be judged, but I.

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 18:11:16 GMT

Today has been just one of those days for reminiscing. I could feel it in the air this morning when I left for work. One wouldn't normally associate today with any importance to spur nostalgia, but it has. September 10th isn't a special day, nor is there anything special occurring today. It's merely the type of day it has been and the type of day it is outside.

Let me paint a picture for you: (author's note: I'm a terrible painter and an even worse writer, so me trying to describe today in vivid detail via words is akin to someone with terrible tremors attempting to accurately recreate some gloriously famous work of art. It's just not going to work, but it never stops them [or subsequently, me] from trying...). It's gloriously overcast outside, keeping the sky a consistent shade of grey, but not too dark nor too light. There's no rain, but you can smell it dancing in the air; the scent serving as a hint that it could rain at any given time. The weather is a nice cool Carolina fall, hovering around the upper 60's with just a slightest breeze tussling your hair, your clothes, the leaves that have pre-maturely fallen. It's a ripe morning for introspection and wide eyes.

Anyways, it reminds me a lot of the walks I used to take to class on mornings like these. These were the mornings ripe for skipping class, because walking through this kind of weather (to go to class) never helps with one's mood. I don't know why though, but the weather, and the memories attached to this kind of weather from college helped to put me in a good mood. Of course that could be the caffeine coursing through my bloodstream. Who am I to argue?

On a side note, I'm really hoping for some snow and ice this year. I miss it, more so than I probably should. I miss a lot of things more than I should. Here's hoping I get to have even more years that I never want to forget. The ratio of the unforgettable to the easily dismissed is rarely in our favor. Each memory is only seconds at a time, and considering that 86,400 of those seconds pass by in a day, we need to start living sooner rather than later.