Eye on what I'm after I don't need another friend. I take just what I came for then I'm out the door again. Peripheral on the package, don't care to settle in.

Big Brother or Horrible impulses but amazing impulse control. [1st of November, 2009 ~ 4:13am] [ music | Music Choice - Classic Alternative ] No, not talking about 1984, I'm speaking of the boy who was born before you. He seemed real cool tonight, it made me happy to see him happy. I saw his new computer and he was telling me how awesome it was, how he picked it out for it's raw power, power he wanted to use to further his photography skill. And he is skilled too, he's got a good eye for blocking, for finding great angles, making his pictures vibrant and alive. His thumbnails for the fireworks looked lame at first, I admit. They're not really my thing, ken? Anyway, he blew them up to full screen and they were breathtaking. I mean, the explosions of color he caught, the smoke reflecting the light as it trailed off. It was amazing stuff. I was proud of him. Later, we went downstairs to play D&D with the rest of our clan, he mentioned something about me being a Dragon of Earth. Didn't catch all of it from across the table, the inspiration for it has slipped my mind, partially I think from the shock of it all. It made me feel young again, happy. The Dragons of Earth are the antagonists from one of my favorite comics, X. Hell, my background may still be two of them, if I haven't changed it. The concept of X is pretty simple. A young boy returns to the town he grew up after leaving it several years ago. He goes back to Tokyou upon his mother's death, her last request. It seems he's 'special', the key to the fate of the world. He had to sacrifice his life, his future to make a choice, the choice of what to save. Mirroring reality, the earth is in grave peril. The virus called Humanity as spread too far, too fast. We're killing our planet slowly. Raping her of her resources, her blood and organs. We're killing her respiratory system with our toxic fumes. Global warming, clear-cutting the forests, destroying the ecosystems of the world for our own greed. CLAMP saw this and based one of my most beloved comics off of it. Kamui, the hero of the story has a choice to make. Should he become a Dragon of Earth and save our planet; a goal only achievable by snuffing out the flame of humanity, or will he become of Dragon of Heaven, damn the earth and save humanity? "What good is having the planet if there's no one to enjoy it?" vs "What good is saving humanity when they're going to die once they've destroyed their planet?" Regardless, he's the protagonist, so he joins the 'good' guys, the other six members of the Dragons of Heaven. His best friend, soul brother's fate is damned by this choice as he's a surrogate 'Kamui', his soul has been destined to be Kamui's opposite, to provide balance. So Fuuma 'the other Kamui' leads his six compatriots in their effort to annihilate the human virus and save the world. They're not all sociopaths, don't get them wrong. There are wafflers. Two of the Dragons of Heaven cast off their ties to the cause, as they've lost that which they wanted to protect the most. Loosing their special someone stole their will to continue on with the fight. A Dragon of Earth or two also found someone worth the effort of saving humanity and damning our small planet. The heroes you find are as selfish and petty as you're lead to believe the villains are, while the villains can be so compassionate that they'd rather everyone be dead, so the person most special to them would no longer be a tool for other people's benefit. I hugged my lil' sis good night, two of 'em dressed for the night in their reinesance faire best, this one with a tartan dress the same as big brother's kilt. I felt guilty for keeping my ride home waiting, I kept her waiting too long already, so I broke the hug. I felt it, you know? That little moment when you feel them still cling to you, making you feel like you're pushing them away... Heh, my eyes are opaque with tears, waiting to slide down my cheeks. Ah, there they go. Good. Hours later I sit here, listening to "Classic Alternative" on Music Choice, somewhat annoyed that they changed the title of their retroactive channel to make it more modern, an idea that came to me before I left my place. I sit, realizing that I'll never be happy. I thought of Hope earlier today, I had a conversation with the Ghost of her I keep in my soul, we talked of why we broke up, what it meant to me, I rewound the conversation and replied how I wished not to speak of it, as it would do no good. I thought of, heh, that other girl and what she meant to me. I thought of other girls in the more recent past and how I've lost them all. How it fucking slayed me, and how at the same time I didn't give a damn. Did it hurt? I fucking died! But, that doesn't mean they weren't mutual decisions. They just beat me to the punch, but it still hurt. It's like Cave said, "I knew before I met her that I would loose her. I made every effort to be good to her. I made every effort not to abuse her." I love Cave so much, not because I agree with the things he's said, but because he's said the things I couldn't put into words. These are my thoughts from his mouth, and with my nihilism, I just know I can never truely be happy. Every relationship ends. Either you stop loving her, she stops loving you, one of you becomes incarcerated, one of you dies. Every. Relationship. Ends. That's not negative thinking so much as it is reality. I do try to make every effort to love the moment. I burn out my women by doing so, too much too soon, not willing to give less, take less, because you never know when you'll have the chance again. Though, as 'we' said. I do make every effort to be good to her, not to abuse her. I'm not as gasoline as I just said, but I am, too. Whatever. I'm fucking tired and I'm only writing this because the last slice of sausage pizza, too many twix and a couple colas before bed are a horrible idea when I've woke two of the past three nights trying to start breathing. I may just die when I go to bed as some of my family have before and some of my family almost had. Where was I? Oh, yes. Letting go of a hug too soon. I felt bad, you know? I mean, I crave some sort of affection so much, just a pat on the head and a 'good boy' every once in a while, I fucking need it. I'm so tired of being shouted at and kicked. Yes, I may not be a good boy, but I think I do enough to be lied to every once in a while. I let go and felt bad. I felt like I was saying through body language that I had had enough, though I hadn't. I felt lonely, regretful; as if I had hurt her or let her down. But half an hour, fourty-five minutes ago I thought, "What does it matter? She's my brother's girl, not mine. It's just a friendly thing, right? I'm thinking too much of this. It doesn't really matter." and I felt it didn't. My moment of happiness was destroyed, as it always is by my realism. Regret turned to self pity, self pity to self loathing, self loathing to antisocialism. Yes. I do not care one bit about these... people. Everything ends, we all die, why shouldn't we all die now instead of over the next hundreds of years? Thousand years? These temporary moments of joy always lead to the sadness of knowing it doesn't matter. I hold my sister in my arms, I hold my lover in my arms. The lips of my girl on my skin, feels good man. But for how long? She leaves for something 'better' and I'm left with an intangible memory, left with nothing. I'm tired of nothing, but nothing's all I get. We date, she leaves me. I flirt, she flirts back, I say 'why don't we?' she says, 'I don't know. Let's.' and we. Then, she leaves me or my passive-aggressive nature shoves at her and she leaves me. Either way, I'm alone until I'm not, then I am again. Why keep at the cycle? Memories? Something to beat off to? I'm tired of the both of them. I don't want the past. I don't want the future. I want the present. I'd be happy without a tomarrow with a good today. I'd be happy to kill you, or at least as indifferent as I am to have you stand beside me alive. No. I would be happier without your noise, without having to look at you, without being disgusted by the way you inhale your mucous instead of blowing your noise. I'd be overjoyed if I could get rid of all these damned children, running up and down this damnedable ramp outside my bedroom window. I wish I didn't have the impulse control that kept me from doing something to keep the sound of those big plastic wheels off the concrete outside my door. I want to destroy you all. Not some TV censorship of the word 'kill', to keep a show's T rating. I want to do more than take your life, I want to change you from a human to a stain. From a living creature to so much meat. But, I'm no psychic warrior. No veteran of a psychic or physical war. Given the chance, I wouldn't slip a knife between your ribs, I'd probably put it between my own first. I'd never join the armed service. I don't want to kill muslims, jews or indians. I want to kill everyone. I'm just so tired of you all, so tired of how you disappoint me and the knowledge of how I disappoint you. The worst part is the knowing that I'll go to sleep, I'll probably wake up in four hours gasping for breath, and go back to sleep again, only to wake up tomarrow and each subsequent day for the next thirty years, carrying all this hate for you and hate for myself, never doing anything about it. Having joy come to me only to leave me again. 'Touching one's life'. Please. What good are memories? But, this is how fucked my life is, why I hate myself so. Earlier, while taking a shit I thought. Before all this regret and nihilism, and that's fate. I was asked if I heard idiots whistling outside, I replied that I had, to be told how she hated people acting stupid. I thought to myself of replying, "Would you like me to kill them for you?" Not thinking of being a Dragon of Earth, not thinking about how I want to kill every human, just a passing thought of killing three acquaintances. Just a normal though, like "I'd like some orange juice". I thought of how great it would be to implant the suggestion for them to beat each other to death and watch them as they did so. But, my conscious stepped in and asked me, "What of their fate?" "What if they beat themselves to death now, taking them out of their story prematurely at the expense of your selfish whim? What about the child they'd sire who'd lead to some great discovery? What of that one person they'd meet who really needed them at that one moment? You'd not only kill that person, but damn every person they were meant to help, you may save a person they were meant to hurt, but perhaps that hurt would lead them to great self-discovery, or open up some power that would only become available through their hardship. That person that they'd meet over the hardship they faced, and what that new person would bring to the good of our world. Which is why I prefer to disbelieve in fate. I'd rather just do what I want and not worry about what ripples I create. Or if I must think of fate, to think that it was fated that I made them kill themselves. After all, why would I be fated such psychic power if it wasn't to annihilate humanity, three people at a time? Well, time to... just go. Fuck it. See you next time I feel like shit, Erica. Love you, babe. do you think I'm listening?

That's the last of the coconut cream pie. [13th of July, 2008 ~ 1:59am] [ music | Maximum the Hormone ~ Buiiki kaesu ] Man, I fucking hate feeling out of place everywhere. I spend the day with my friends, right? Start off by going swimming, which was awesome. Then we went to one of the houses for a while, watched some TV then went for something to eat. Came home and played some Halo. Our 4 man game was interrupted by one of the boys going out to pick up another, and I had to sit out a game or two myself, so the other two played some campaign to get one of 'em some skulls. So, I come back to find them busy with their thing, which I didn't feel like sitting around and watching like an asshole, so I go downstairs to hang out with the two girls we had there. Go down to find 'em looking at old year books, which I couldn't get in on, so I sat on a chair, bored and excluded. So, I got a book off the girl's shelf and sat down to read it, to which the two started whispering shit that held no relevance whether I heard it or not, as it meant no thing to me, talking about people I don't know and shit, so I had enough of that. I could tell I wasn't wanted. Hell, if they had to fucking whisper to keep me out of their shit, I was better off not even around, so I went back upstairs with her book, which I couldn't concentrate on due to the fucking Halo SFX. Meh, there's always such bad energy in that house that I don't find any joy in it anymore. Yet, I still keep going. I should stop, but, meh. "Sure the game is crooked, but it's the only game in town." I need to make some more friends, but I'm not a very good person, which is probably why I feel excluded even amoungst my people. But whatever. I guess I'll just stay here, home, doing nothing like I always do 'til I get stabbed or shot by some hoodlums for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm just so tired of, like, everything. Just how few and fleeting the good times are in all the bad. I saw The Golden Army tonight though, with the gang and loved it. It was better then I had expected, and I expected some good shit. *sigh* Soooo lovely. Wink's growl just made me purr for lack of a better word. I still hate faggy Abe. I miss cool black man Abe from Mike's original works. At least Liz wasn't a little whiney cunt again. She was actually pretty strong. And Peter Griffin as the rubber german Johann Krauss ("Two S's." 'S.S., right.') was fucking lame but cool. Meh, I'm just tired of everyone and everything, I just need to dissapear from the world for a few days. Too bad life's never that simple. do you think I'm listening?

JESUS! [7th of July, 2008 ~ 10:47pm] [ mood | enraged ] [ music | Ludo ~ The Broken Bride ] I'm feeling particularly frustrated with humanity recently. Two of my best friends recently got married, and I've been tired as hell since I stood as one of their groomsmen. Apparently, an impromptu speach I made at the reception was the most well-recieved. The best man and maid of honor made their speaches, and the MC asked if anyone else had words they wanted to speak of the newlyweds. One of the groomsmen (of 4, and 2 ushers) said he had some words, went up and gave them. So, the MC asked again to silence. Well, I pretend I'm hot for the bride constantly, and felt pretty uncomfortable at times at the wedding, so I figured I'd offer some words (after someone smart-assedly said, "FREEBIRD!" and the maid of honor, holding onto the mic started to sing a line, more out of embarassment then anything, I thought. So, I went up and said some shit, pulled it out of my head, didn't even remember it after saying it. Apparently I rhymed, as some told me I did, and they loved it, and I felt an, "Oh god... I'm going to rhyme with my next words ~_~" and, "Oh god... I just rhymed..." while, and before they were spit out. So, words were said, they were touching, and I added a, "Pass the Mic" at the end, like a tool (I hadn't been drinking, though I acted pretty drunk). But, no one took it. But yes, I'm feeling a little better at the moment, thanks to thinking of them and The Broken Bride...whoa. Bad segue. By Ludo. Gods... I spun it for the first time (well, past Part I) today, while I was out with my ma, taking her to do some paperwork. I had to choke back tears with Morning in May. Softened up my rancorous mood a bit again now. But yeah... I'm sooooo done with people, that even artificial intelligence is annoying me. I'm trying to escape all these fuckers, assholes and other negative words by escaping into Persona3:FEZ that Katrina bought me for my birthday, but even that's pissing me off. Yuka-tan is acting like such a major cunt, that I'm done with her. All my responses have gone from kind or curious to "fuck you". Heh, which is why I also think I'm so mentally exhausted, 3 days or so of acting kind and respectful to the groom's parents, family, guests, and the rest of the wedding party's family (I'd mention the bride, if it wasn't just her family. XD) Ugh... I fucking hate people, and then to act nice?! Sure, they're great people, so I didn't mind, but that's just not me anymore... I've got too much hate to make an effort to not let it leak out. Seething hatred. Heh. So yes. If it wasn't for Chihuahua? What's my girl's name? Chihiro. Yeah... If I didn't have a get-together with her tomarrow, I'd just turn it off and go to bed, or watch Supernatural or something. But yes. Ugh... Fucking idiots. My friends in the game are fucking idiots. Junpei can use fire magic, but he'd rather just slash and miss an opponent weak to fire then cast a spell. Same with Aki. He'd rather dia then Zio, even when it's super-effective. So if I want to kill the shadows before they cast spells on all my party at once, knocking the fags on their asses (only the cunt and I stand), ruining their rounds, getting ME hurt for THEIR INCOMPETENCE (I loathe tactically telling them, "ATTACK THIS GUY, DON'T HEAL" but, "Do whatever you want" is just toooooo vaugue for the idiots.) so yes. I have the hairdemon from japan as my go-to girl. Bred her with Fire, Ice and Wind spells, also have Auto Attack Up and Auto Defense Up with her too. So, I'm loving on her, but my favorite part is her 20 speed. Gets me in first all the time. So yes... I have to single-handedly cripple everyone, using all my SP just to keep my party alive. So, I kill two of the three shadows with my spells, knocking the third down. Junpei or the cunt say, "Let's give it our all and kill them!" to which I reply, "Fuck you. You didn't do shit, why do you feel you should participate now? Go. Die." and just strike myself, single-handededly destroying a party of shadows. And if I don't, like I said, they just get me hurt. I should just tell 'em to fuck off, which I would if I didn't like having someone around to help if I should have two shadows lying on the floor when I'm done spell-slinging. Thank the gods I've got 30% SP UP equipment. I need it with these dumb cunts. So, not even in imaginationland are people any good. Everyone. Go. Die. Fuck you all. I loathe you. Stop breathing. Just leave a beautiful corpse for me to fuck. do you think I'm listening?

Chapter 25 (End) [2nd of March, 2008 ~ 6:47am] I liked having hurt, so send the pain below, where I need it. Jesus, my knee hurts. Left knee. Like I tore a ligament or something. It hurt at first after dinner, I just wanted to go to my room and do... something. Net, XI. Don't remember, don't really know. Think I responded to a survey, reposted I should say, just to put a response to one of the questions out there into the wired. I got up and moved to XI after I finished them and my knee totally fucking hurt. Couldn't even put weight on it. So, I've been sitting here for hours reading Air Gear and listening to Audioslave (now Chevelle). Well, quite some time back the wind was howling, pounding at my window. It sounded mean, fierce, ethereal. For a moment there, I thought it was some bad juju. Like, some spirits were walkin' the earth again. That's the kind of wind it was, a black wind. Henyway, a storm's comin'. A blizzard, they say. Didn't wanna spend the week with the same trash in the house. Was gonna dump it after dinner, but wasn't feeling like doing anything. Been feeling like that a lot, recently. Dunno if it's just the depression or if I'm comin' down with somethin', but I'm just so fuckin' dead lately. Saw Reno 911 Miami last night, chased it with Gilbert Godfrey's Dirty Jokes, and caught a fucking groovy flick called The Cat's Meow. Starring Kirsten Dunst (whom I absolutely love/lust after) as Humsum Frumsumhumsum and Eddie Izzard as Charley Chaplin. Even had Cary Elwes and Jeniffer Tilly. Lots of great talent aside from them as well, but yeah. Kirsten & Eddie = <3. Then I chased that with Videodrome. First time I saw all of that shit. Didn't wanna stay up to finish Videodrome as it ended 'round seven am, but, fuck it. Oh shit... gotta be up at eleven today, too. ;_; Oh well... I'll have to pass on Carbuncle's Mitts, I suppose. So yeah, I woke up 'round noon, had breakfast and went back to bed where I stayed 'till about four. Felt like going back to sleep 'round 10. I just can't get enough sleep. There's like, no reason to stay awake or some shit. I just wanna sleep and sleep and sleep 'till I can't sleep anymore. Now that Eureka Seven's done, I can go to sleep before 3AM/6AM though, so hopefully that'll help. Oh, seperate tangent. Had a dream last night about Laurie from school. <3 So yeah, tired, knee hurting, trash had to be thrown before blizzard... Oh, vicious spooky wind. So, the wind's poundin' at my wall an' window, makin' me nervous, eager, anxious to find out how it looks out there. Sky's stormy. Four AM and the sky's all light up with the moon filterin' through the clouds. The wind looked fierce. I HAD to go out there. So, I got dressed. Put on my fleece jumper, got my trash can and headed out. First, I walk down the path to hear the wind blowin' through the trees like the ocean breaking upon the shore. I keep walking, wanting to cry with that old familiar sound, recalling my desire to head west to Oregon, which has been quenched since I had and lost... shit, what's her name? Began with a J... I remember her last name, but not the first. I should've brought her to AJ's. I'd have her now if I hadn't been reluctant. Henyway... Yeah, I keep walking, swelling with pride. This is me. I'm Genbu and this arctic wind shoving trees and freezing me to the bone was as natural as my hair. This was me, my element, my season, and I was loving it. Got back into the house after the walkabout and felt like I was gonna die. The wind was suffocating and my heart was racing with an anxiety of that which drew me out. "I wonder if I'm gonna get murdered, stabbed to death. I wonder if the wind's going to blow something at me to take me out." I thought, wishfully as I headed to the dumpster. Walking back with no sign of ill or good will from the wind I had become confused. I was drawn out at that moment. Not a moment before, not a moment after. I HAD to throw the trash at that moment, and I was waiting for the other foot to drop, telling me WHY it had to be THEN. Didn't find a reason, still haven't found a reason for my racing heart, other then the trip itself. Reminded me of how I want to move by the ocean, by the forests of real trees and not these fake aspen forests. Reminded me that I'm the tortoise and the serpent, which is ironic. The Mike's make me feel like shit because I feel my destiny's elsewhere. Washington, Oregon, California. I've got to manifest destiny, and they on the other hand simply don't want to leave their friends. Think it's lame. Makes me feel like shit that I can give up my friends so easily for an uncertain future, when they make it seem like they'd sacrifice theirs (hold themselves back) to remain with us. So the wind blowing through the naked trees reminds me how I've got to go, and as it blows through me, reminding me of the Shijingi days, reminds me of what ties me to my boys. Damn pussy. Damn hoes before bros. do you think I'm listening?

I must go on standing. [28th of February, 2008 ~ 5:22am] Aaaaaah fuck. Apres moi, le deluge. After me, the flood... Man, I fucking loathe this feeling of drowning. I mean, I know there are anti-depressants, drugs that I could take that supposedly adjust the chemical imbalance in one's head and all, but that's too much bullshit for me. I can't remember to do shit in succession enough for it to become routine, habit. Plus, from everyone I know who's taken them, they build up an immunity after some time and the feelings of joy and normalcy bottom out in the end, and again as I've heard, the bottom feels even worse then it has. But yeah, man... I just need someone to love me. They say it's better to have loved and lost then not to have loved at all, and I don't disagree with that, but love is like any other anti-depressant. I was feeling like shit through all my days 'till I got to my evenings with Hope, like with Jen. She'd talk to me, I'd listen, or rather I'd talk to her and she'd respond. Hindsight often shows me that I used to do most of the talking, even though it lacked complete relevance. I never talked about how shitty my days were at work, or at school. Brag about the good shit every once in a while, though. So yeah, all the pain would go away when I'd hear their voices, see their faces, feel them. But eventually we'd break up and I'd loose my best friend, loose my sunshine and be plunged in eternal darkness. So I'm trying to chat up a couple friends of mine, trying to see if I can make something grow, but that recidivism just should not be. I mean, it's great if your beloved is your best friend, but I've got to stop turning my best friend into my beloved. I just want someone so bad... Like these fucking cartoons, youngsters in love, their shy, timid embraces, their first kiss. The shy glances... I wish I could have that. I want a shy girl to fall completely desperately in love with me, like I tend to fall for them. Thinking about talking to Hope again, ask her why we broke up, appologize for being so strong and shit. I dunno... I just want to repair us, even though I know I don't. I'm just so fucking tired of being alone, save for my TV. Again, the lust for life has started to wane and my desire for it to all end is waxing. I know it'll never happen, but I can't help feeling that one of these days, all my bullshitting'll stop being bullshit. Henyway, my stomach is killing me from all this stress, angst and pain. I can't stand to sit here anymore. Nite nite, Erica. <3 do you think I'm listening?

I hate being fake. [24th of February, 2008 ~ 6:11am] [ music | Brand New ~ Deja Mfumu ] So yeah, I often talk about how eager I am to die, as I am. I often talk about how I have to fight with myself not to commit suicide at least 3 times a week. But as much as I'm seeking an end to this pain, I refuse to die. I mean, I've already got it in my head, an embeded faith that I'm bulletproof. See, I read a visual story the other day (like, last month) where a character dies, his death panel shows that he jacks into the big black, and that terrified me. At first. Just the thought of slipping into nothingness hurt my soul, it's something I don't fucking want at all. It reminded me about my near-death experiences, and how I've fought, tooth and claw to climb out of the hole and back to level ground. It reminded me of my pagophobia and the grasping onto life that somewhat limits my actions. My life has been nothing, been shit up to this point, (with the exception of those girls who have loved me) and I'm not going to fucking leave until I have some fun with it. Like Violent J, I want 3 things, and I'm not going to fucking die until I get them. Except I'm a glutton, and a simple three would never do. So yeah, I realized that as much as I crave an end to my pain, I'm not going to let death be it. ...but then a thought occured to me. Jacking into the big black doesn't particularly mean an obliteration of self and surfing into nothingness. "Life is a waterfall. We're one at the river and then one again after the fall." The Big Black doesn't have to be nothing, it could be everything. "We loose our Self, but we find it all." Sure, your sense of self may be destroyed, but you'll have reunited with the all. But still. Even to be the all powerful one. Delivered unto the mass consciousness, I'd rather retain my individuality for as long as I can. For what it's worth. do you think I'm listening?

Update [11th of February, 2008 ~ 4:24am] [ mood | tired ] [ music | Tip Taps Tips ] Same 3 songs on repeat on my 360, one of 'ems Tip Tap Tips. Yay. Moved my 360 / TV back into my room. Had to buy another 25' network cable. Luckily, I had a client the day after I decided I wanted to abandon the front room. FFXI in bed = Win. As long as I'm sitting. Lying = awkward. Room's still a mess. Removed ma's wheelchair, replaced all my shit on my mini bookshelf (but then removed Lenore). Bed's 2" from wall, so now I've got open space on ¾ths of it. But, I woke up with a crippling back pain. Hmmm... Picked the scab off the 'gash' on my shin. It's hollow. I'm aroused. Found out VERY LITTLE but, a little about emotional unstability. Now I can see why Jen said it applied to me, but not really what it 'is'. Tried to read some new (as in fresh, 'brand new') Bleach, but my scanlator's down. :\ Was reminded of Valentine's Day by a friend. I can still taste the deliciousness of Hope's home-made brownies. "Best brownies ever made", I called 'em. Works, too. Gods... I miss my bitch. Found a disk titled NDK PICTURES or something, from Joe. Found like, 12 vers. of the same picture. (Though to be honest, there are 4 different styles) Gods... I'm so possessive. No wonder I have a hard time finding girls that fit me. I swear, I don't think I took my hands off that poor girl. ANY of my girls. Shots have my arm either across her shoulders, around her waist, or across her chest, all 'saying', "Mine. Stay away." ...made one of them my current wallpaper. If they weren't so beautiful, they wouldn't be so missed. do you think I'm listening?

I feel like a cunt. [7th of February, 2008 ~ 3:22am] [ music | Tom Waits ~ Mule Variations ] 1) I would like a cunt. You know what I haven't had in a while? A calzone... Yeah, I feel like a calzone, you want one to? 2) I feel fucked. :( Man, I'm feeling like I've been put through a lot. I feel tired and beaten. Dirty. Spit at, if you will... 3) I feel like a woman (in the negative emotional connotation). Ugh, all I want to do is cry about these sad feelings and eat them away. I had a dream about Hope last night. I don't know if I'm just trying to tell myself, force myself to believe that I don't care anymore, but, apparently there's still a lot there that I just can't get rid of. She came back 'round, gave me a fair bit of warning she was comin' this way again, "I'm going to go get a tattoo" she told me, "I'll get you one too." I felt like Dr. Bear seeing his little cub again, I fell for her beauty all over again (like I've fuckin' stopped). So yeah, she came around and played those games women play, the kind where they hug on you, yet don't give a fuck about you, just something to pull you along by your nose ring and your heart (or dick, depending on what's interesting you at the time). The kind of game 'strong' women play against weak men. She'd hug me, snuggle with me, yet punish me every time I tried to do the same. Kinda like it was last I saw her. Gods... It felt so good to be in her arms, yet I felt like a rapist when I took her in mine. Her lips against me, ooooh... just thinking about it sends waves through my body, as my eyes begin to tear a bit, especially when I remember how uninterested she seemed when I wanted to be affectionate*. Well, yeah. She'd be sweet to me, yet every time I tried to get close to her, she'd remind me she broke up with me, all, "What are you doing? We broke up, remember?"-like. So yeah, we went to this weird (by 'your' standards, fucking badass by mine) house where some older lady gave tattoos. Kinda reminded me of Eli's mom. Yeah, the walls were plastered with framed pictures of flowers, animals, all sorts of feminine shit that was supposed to be her 'catalog' I guess. Well, at any rate, Hope picked one of the photos off the wall and scribbled it on a piece of paper, where she made a little modifications (added some non-right angled frame to the bottom) and showed me the tattoo she drew. "What do you think of the tattoo I came up with?" I faked it and told her I thought it was nice, even though I thought it was pretty shitty, like something my ma would embroider on a pillow case or something. Anyway, I guess as this was a feminine tattoo parlor, it had some other fucked up shit, at any rate, we had dinner there. When I say we, I mean those motherfuckers. So yeah, dinner was being served as Hope came out of her session, got it on her back. When I first saw her, I swore all I saw was her naked back (as it was dark in the room. The sun was setting when we got there, twilight was chasing away day's last steel blue skies with the glorious dusk, and night was out when Hope returned. So yeah, the first thing she does is walk towards Joe, and between when I first saw her, allegedly naked and when she passed by the body of one of my friends which blocked my view of her, I had saw she had a black bra on. I thought to myself, "Well, maybe she just didn't see me, it's kinda dark here where I'm sitting, and I am wearing black..." but that was wiped from my mind when she asked, walking towards him, "What do you think of my tattoo, Joe?" Whaaaaat? I said in my mind, as I'm sure my jaw dropped from the shock of that question. I never heard a response as my questioning drowned out all other sounds in my head. That, and the look she gave me, a faint smirk no one else would've caught as she stared me dead in the eye. Heh, you know how sometimes you punch the wall and you wake up from the pain in your hand? Or wake up after or in the middle of colliding with the floor? Well, that pain woke me up, as I tried to write it off as a good dream about my friend, and not the nightmare of knowing how rejected I am instead. So, that brings me to *. While I was trying to shake that image out of my mind of my girl (yeah... like that's not the root of my problem) throwing herself at Joe (which is another 'man' problem. She just asked his opinion, and she's already 'throwing herself' at my friends to get back at me) I thought about cat girls and how much I loathe them. Now, I know lots of girls who own cats, so I'm sure that might bring up some, "Aww... I'm hated?"s but, not really, but yeah. But, not really. See, my experience with cat girls is, they all, I dunno, gave up on men. Or women, if that's what they prefer. It's like, "I can't find a man to dote my affections on, so instead I'll buy an animal that I can love." Now, the reason why I don't hate my crazy cat lady friends is because, as much as I joke I do, I don't wanna fuck em. I don't want a relationship with em, so if they want to cuddle their pussy more then their man, then that's their prerogative. But, I don't like that in my women. I AM THE ONE WHO WANTS TO BE CUDDLED! I'M THE ONE I WANT YOU TO LOVE, DOTE ON! ME! NOT A FUCKING ANIMAL! LOVE ME! MAKE ME YOUR LIFE! NOT YOUR PET! GODS! I FUCKING HATE THAT! I HATE when a woman wants to be more affectionate with her cat then her boyfriend. I guess in my case I'd rather cuddle a dirty dog then me too, so I really can't fault my women for it, but still. Just because I'm a hideous manster doesn't mean I enjoy being reminded of it. Ugh. So yeah... Bad dream reiterating my loss of love, and my ravenous desire to reclaim it. My hate for women who waste my affection on cats... what elOH! I remember my third point to writing. "I want to Marry a Fairytale Princess" I somewhat hate how we've got so much access to others' stories. We're swimming in them, bathing in them, and it reeks. I mean, turn on the television and you're bombarded with them. Go to a movie and before you can see the one story you want, you have to sit through 'coming attractions', being exposed to more stories, or annoyingly a lack thereof. The reason I hate this is because I'm fed an ideal of woman who I've yet to fucking encounter. A fairytale woman; the clingy obsessive girl. (Is that what Kamron called her?) See, I want that. I want a girl who's always hanging on me, and if she isn't, she's still clasped to my hand. I want a girl who devotes herself to me, asking me everything I have on mind, constantly bugging me for my opinions and my daily adventures. I want a girl who wants to please me instead of asking, "Well, what's in it for me?" ...'cause that's the kinda guy I am. >_< I'm such a little bitch (or cunt, as the subject makes it's return), that I want the girls that exist in comics and cartoons. Hell, even though I'm pretty particular when it comes to appearance (who isn't? Main reason I'm single, I assume. My looks and the crippling shyness they induce), it doesn't really matter what she looks like as long as she treats me well. But alas, as I've said, I've only encountered that girl in comics, and in movies where she's made fun of for caring too much. I was with this girl, I'd ask her every night, "So, how was your day?" asking her to tell me about work, about her thoughts, and I'd just get, "It was ok." "Same as always" Sure, that's all there really is to say, I know, but still. I wanted some sort of effort. I wanted a, "Well, at 11, Jane said this and we all laughed. Went to lunch a little late, didn't get out 'till quarter to one, had some pizza from the mall, you know, Sabaro's? Had a slice of peperoni and a coke. Micky came with me, then we went back. OH! I saw the cutest little dog on the walk back, a blue husky with icy blue eyes. His name was Roscoe, at least I hope it was a 'he' with that name, but I didn't get that good a look, you know? -_~ So yeah, we got back at 1:10, so we mulled about talking a bit outside before going back in. Did you know that Micky's husband has gallstones? Apparently he hasn't been able to pee in three days. He's got an appointment at the eurologyst on friday, seven AM!" Yeah... I want that shit. I mean, they say that the grass is always greener, they say I'd hate it if I had it, but that's the kind of woman I want. Leaning against me the whole time as she shares everything with me, as I smile down at her. Yo, hook me up. If she could be all fomg wealthy (working for the company and not the cash), be in her early / mid twenties and look like a skinny little 15 year old as well, I'd be in heaven, thanks. Which is the only flaw in my ideal woman. It's totally not important, but as I always 'dream' of the perfect girl, she's got more money then we need. Like, Lotto Rich. So she's all, "Anything you want, ANYTHING AT ALL, it's yours." But, that does tend to lead to problems in our relationship, as I want a real woman, a good-old-fashioned woman, I've got to counter-balance it as a good old-fashioned man. That means I gotta provide for her, I gotta make sure she feels protected (and I gotta plow the shit outta that field), and if she's making the money (or made), I'd feel all emasculated. I've had that conversation in my 'dreams' so many times. Her streaming tears down her cheeks, begging me to take advantage of her bank account. "Why not? ;_; I don't get it! Why won't you just... buy what you want? Why do you still have to work a job you tell me every day you hate? Just stay home, play games, watch tv! Whatever! Just don't worry about it! ;_; PLEASE! Why can't you realize nothing would make me happier?! I WANT you to have whatever you want. It's not my money, it's our money! What do I have to do to prove it to you?! Want me to transfer it all to you so you're the one who has the money?! Will that make everything okay? Will that make you happy? Just tell me what I have to do! D;" Thing is, you know, there never is anything. OHMYFUCKINGODS! I'DLOVEAWOMANWHOCOULDBUYMEEVERYTHINGIEVERWANTED!!! But, yeah... That's my role in the relationship. The main problem is, I keep working the job I hate to pay off my debts, credit card, student loan, that kinda shit... but my main problem is, I want to get her an engagement ring. "Hey hon, can I have a thousand bucks to buy you an engagement ring?" 'Sure hon. But, if you're buying it with my money, why be so cheap? It's my money, buy me a $100,000 engagement ring. D:' "Well, it IS your money after all, I wonder how much I could spend on a ring... Platinum setting, huge diamond... Maybe I could find a way to spend a million. It IS for you, after all, my love..." 'Cause seriously. I mean, aside from 'the grass is always greener' syndrome, I'd fucking marry a girl like that in a week. The clingy girl who's completely in love with me. I'd be all like, "Fuck baby, let's elope! We'll get married with our friends later." But, like Jen taught me, that vision of marriage is just a binding, putting a woman in a cage as an insecurity to leave her free, fearing she'd just leave you. Trying to chain her down with a ring. ...ugh. Woman killed my romantic dream of marriage and married some bastard a year or two later. Like I said, women... Lead you around with their games by your heart or dick. Heh, just remembered that I never got around to my tattoo. I thought about what I'd get between Hope going in the back for hers, and coming back out the to table surrounded by my friends. Dream logic, never even saw them get there, just like I never saw the day turn to night. I settled on barcode for $0.00 on the back of my neck, like Ian and I came up with almost a decade ago, but watching her walk out and round the table to get to Joe topless just made me forget everything. Shit, I'm so private with my women that I don't even like to tell my friends I've got one, much less let them see that much of her naked body. That's MY body! Take your fucking eyes off it before I gouge 'em from your fucking gawking head! ERICA! FUCKING TELL ME, 'SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRL! SHE MAY HAVE BEEN ONCE, BUT THAT'S OVER! GET OVER HER ALREADY! SHE'S NOT FUCKING YOURS ANYMORE! GET THE FUCK OVER HER!!! 'Cause I tell myself that every day, and it doesn't fucking work. do you think I'm listening?

ohmygod... [29th of January, 2008 ~ 6:46am] [ mood | happy ] [ music | Underworld Soundtrack. ] Oh Erica, I'm so fucking happy! n_n Good timing too, Bring Me The Disco King's just starting. See, saw Music & Lyrics the other day and this thing came to my mind right off the bat when a conflict occured over the shared tune. Thought to myself, "They should just pull an Underworld. Let Cora do her hindi diddy for her disk, and then record it yourself for a solo project. Like Underworld vs Reality. But, that's not it (even though that did make me mildly happy). No... For weeks, MONTHS, I've been in conflict. Should I talk to my old best friend or not? Ever since she dropped me like a hot potato, I've been afraid to talk to her. Afraid of whatever the reason we split was a reason why we shouldn't be together at all. It hurt loosing my girl, it hurt like hell, but it hurt even more loosing my best friend. I tried to keep in contact, tried to keep us cool, but it didn't work. Maybe I wasn't cool, maybe she wasn't cool, but it wasn't cool. So, I played a lot of X-Box. Stayed away from the intarwebs, stayed away from a lot of people and things, clusterfucking. For the past few months, I've had a growing hunger to talk with her again. It's been eating at me like an emotional tumor, 'till I decided to give in. For the past 2 weeks, I've been looking at her name on AIM, wanting to click it, wanting to avoid it... NEEDING to click on it. But, I'd just remove her name from my list and go about my night, only to add it again before going to bed, "I'm going to do it next time I see she's on." Yeah, she wouldn't give me her new number, but I didn't wanna take the hint. Weeks, man... Past two weeks, I've wanted to call Miss D and ask her, "Do you think it'd be okay if I IM'd her? If I tried to talk to her a little, at least? You knew her, story goes, do you think it'd be a good idea?" Ask her opinion as she's with a Scorpio herself. I IM'd another gal-pal to ask her her opinion on contacting Ex's. Then I remembered she sorta hangs out with one, and keeps in contact with another. Instead of getting around to it, I just lost myself in our conversation. Weeks of trying, almost begging for another's input, thinking to myself in the end, "What good would that do? It's none of their business, really... I don't like dropping this shit on the people I know... Don't want them to see me weak. Plus, I would just ignore their input anyway. If they said no, I'd tell 'em, "FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T KNOW US! YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" and do it anyway, if they said yes, I'd just cite my shyness and fear of others to shirk off their advice." So today I say, "I'm gonna roll a 6-sided die 3 times, if there are more rolls 4-6 then 1-3, I'll hit her up. If there's a 6, it's automatically on." Didn't talk about a 1 and an auto-off, though. Shows my priorities, yeah? So, instead of rolling one die thrice, I roll 3 die once. 1, 2, 1. >_< So, I say, cheating only myself. "Well... I said I'd roll it 3 times, might as well take 2 out of 3..." roll it again, get 6, 4, another high number. I look at that six and say, "Well.." and rolled again. Again, all 4+ So, that was 2/3rds in 'her favor'. So, I click on her name and give her a greeting, but didn't send it, just stared at it and thought. Minutes pass, songs end, start and end again while I stare at that one little sentence. "Well, I'll roll once more, all or nothing, a 10-sided die, same rules." I roll it and it falls out 0. Which, if you're into polyhedral die, you know that means 10. >_< FUCK! So, I stare at my line for another two minutes, say, "Well, fuck it. Worst she can do is say mean things to me. Can't be any worse then not saying anything." and, after another pause almost a minute in length, I hit Enter and all but run from my computer. She replies, not mean, not civil, but as herself. We spoke for a few hours, minus that hour and a half or so I split to make some dinner. It was fucking great! I'm so happy that I could die. But, with my suicidal nature, I can kill myself over anything. "It can't get any better! Time to kill myself." "It'll only get worse from here! Time to kill myself." "Is that a rabbit over there? Time to kill myself." But yes, I'm soooo happy right now. I just hope we don't loose it. I wish she'd bring something up though, that way I could point the finger at her, say, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" find out why we broke, and resolve it. You know, something a healthy couple would do. But, I'm content with us being us. Not saying shit and just enjoying what we've got. ...or at least letting me enjoy what we've got. I really can't say anything about how she feels, yeah? do you think I'm listening?

I miss No Doubt [28th of January, 2008 ~ 2:06am] That old ska No Doubt, back before Gwen became a pop princess. And I mean, all that good shit. I listened to a lot of Don't Speak in the past, "Loosing my best friend" sort of shit, but yeah, less on the ballady flavor, more with the ska punky tunes. Just saw Go after like, YEARS of wanting to see it. I think I saw the Jay Mohr part before, as it seemed familiar, but the whole movie, this is my first, and it was fan fucking tastic. I loved it like whoa. Saw Planet Terror today too. Lots of good shit going around. Like, I had a client today, a first timer, but she doesn't speak english and my spanish is just as shit. Her son tried to translate for us, but he didn't do a very good job. Which is one of the (many) reasons I can't stand Ghost Whisperer. "Tell my father that the best gift he gave me was my freedom, regardless of whatever dibilitating bullshit I died of." 'She says 'thanks'.' NO SHE FUCKING DIDN'T!!! DON'T CONDENSE FOUR FUCKING SENTENCES OF INFORMATION INTO FOUR FUCKING WORDS!!! Oh my behalf, not hers, as I don't give a fuck about that show. I only catch glimpses by accident. But yeah, with that money, I paid off a loan I took for a bounced check fee. (Static bill, FFXI. I didn't get paid 'till friday, 'round 5. Credit union closed at the same time, no time to get down there to deposit, and the first was a national holiday. Didn't stop the company from taking money out of my account it didn't have, though.) But, the money was unwanted, so we used it to buy a pizza instead, like, best Pizza Hut pizza I had in an age. ohmygod... The girl on the phone... There was just a certain fucking timber in her voice, it just tickled me in the base of my 3-piece. "She's a southern girl..." It wasn't obvious, it's just something someone who gets a hard-on for that shit would pick up. Then, she tried to pronounce my street name. "Mar-ipo-sa... ma...ripossa..." ohmygod... Got myself a big shit-eatin' smile on my face. Grinnin' like a fool. "Mariposa" I told her, in which she gave me thanks and I finished my order. "Y'all have a good one." OHMYGOD! I was like, jogging in my seat, wiggling my arms. Like Rafiki? No, that's the simian... Whoopie's hyenna. Sarabi? No, that's Simba's ma. But yeah, "Say it again, say it again! Ooooooooh... it tingles." Gods. I love me them southern girls... Yesterday too. I was riding the bus home from Safeway and I saw a pretty lil' thing on the bus. If I hadn't walked half way home and only had 5 minutes on the bus, I'd've so had to chat her up. She was wearing Chucks, a houndstooth coat, big brass earrings, the kind that look like a brass plate, with a big hole punched near the top. Kind of like an o in an O. Another detterent in me introducing myself was the fact that she had some big ass headphones (DJ) like mine. Hers were all bedazzled and shit. Ohmygod... Her hair... I have a thing for tails. "Pig" tails? Tails pulled back at the back / top of the head, cut down the middle, with falls in front of the ears and bangs. She was ROCKING IT! She was delicious... But then, as I was getting off the bus, I noticed her hair was all pulled to one side, her left, toward me. XD Oh well, at least that half was like, ideallic. So yeah, it's a nice change of pace to have good shit to tell you, instead of coming to you crying. ...other then missing No Doubt. ...I swear, that was the best pizza I've had from the Hut. ;p Only problem was, while eating it, warm melty cheese, we were treated to Quinton's 3-piece melting off his body with the same consistity of my dinner as he attempted to put it in his sex interest. Groos. (which is like, supergross) do you think I'm listening?

Climb to the top to slide to the bottom. Remember, you're only mortal. [23rd of January, 2008 ~ 3:47am] [ mood | sad ] [ music | 94.3 KILO ] Fuck, Stonesour's Through the Glass is playing on the stereo, I switched it to my radio after watching Eureka Seven. Eureka Seven's one of my favorite shows, and I can see how it earned it's noteriety. See, in the past, it's first run on Adult Swim back in 2006 I lost all but 2 episodes. The first episode I saw was Helter Skelter. I sat through the whole thing, kind of shocked with what was going down, but clueless to it all. Then, I caught a minute of a later episode, where Renton and Eureka were alone on an alien planet, and if I'm not crazy, Eureka sprouted wings. I knew, even worse then Helter Skelter, I'd have NO IDEA what was going down, and to avoid spoiling shit, I changed it right away. See, when Hope and I went to NDK, she stayed up all friday (I think, though Saturday makes more sense, unless it's just a sign of the times...) night watching Adult Swim with Sara. She woke up late the next morning and blamed staying up all night for being a bit tired and cranky. She told me she watched some wierd show where this dude hugged his kid, telling him, "This is what your father smells like." She didn't like it. I thought it was Bleach, as that was making it's premier, and after checking out Strawberry's dad, I thought that'd be something he'd say. I was wrong. Didn't know that at the time, didn't know that 'till last year when Adult Swim OnDemand started airing E7. Like I said, my first episode was Helter Skelter... ( Helter Skelter / Memento Mori spoilers. ) do you think I'm listening?

I've got 99 problems [22nd of January, 2008 ~ 3:02am] [ mood | depressed ] [ music | FLCL ~ Addict ] I had a dream last night. A couple, actually... The first of note was of I, bored and lonely, thinking of who to visit. I got on the bus and rode for a while, I think my intentions were to meet Mike, at his old residences that he shared with his brother. Think halfway through that plan, I decided I'd rather see if AJ was up for some company and coincidentally, she was at a bus stop I rolled up to. I hopped off and tried to chat her up, but she wasn't really interested in me at the time, so I bid her farewell as she rushed off home, and instead I struck up a conversation with this other gal at the stop, who if I remember right, she was communicating with. This girl reminded me of Belladonna. Heh, Belladonna, that's a name you don't fucking forget with ease... When I was going to North, I'd ride the 52 north every day (that I went to school) and this cute lil' thing would get on the bus half-way through my trip. She'd always ride past my stop, which made me think, "Dude... maybe she's going to Jr. High..." and shit, so with Jailbait on my mind, I never struck up a conversation with her, even though she was hecka cute (but how many hecka cute girls do I see and not bother speaking to?) Well, one day my fat ass was riding the bus to the grocery store when I saw her, sitting in the front of the bus, maybe 3 years back. I saw her lovely lil' face, pretty much unchanged by the years and I panicked. Which was humorous, my huge frame trying to hide from such a little lady. I looked everywhere but at her, which I think may have aroused suspicions. Anyway, she spoke to me, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" I had my music on at the time, but heard every word she said. ~_~ "Yeah... you look a little familiar" I told her, leaving out the, 'I kinda crushed on you' bit. "I think you used to get on the bus while I was going to school" I said. She seemed to remember me at that point from the same brief glances we had of each other, and she shared her name with me, as well as some information about her 2 year old son, if I recall correctly. So yeah, this girl in my dream didn't look much like Belladonna, but had the same memorial familiarity, so I struck up a converation with her, said she was going to the mall, which I coincidentally ended up needing to go to as well. ;D She mentioned she wanted to buy a ring some video game character had, like Squall's ring from FFVIII. Not anything like it, really, just the idea. So, I told her I knew of a great shop she should check, so she went along with me. We got to talking and we kinda clicked. So, we got to the shop I had in mind and the poor thing was embarassed. "I don't want them to think I'm some kind of wierdo, wanting a ring some video game character has." Telling this to a cosplayer. ;D So I told her I had her back, and went up to the shopkeep, told her, "My girlfriend here's looking for a certain kind of ring. Gold setting, emerald (or jade... I think it was jade) horizontal bar..." yadda yadda yadda 'till I described it perfectly. The "Ethel" looking woman behind the counter knew me, as I got all my cosplay jewelry from her, got her interested in cosplayers, and she not only took commissions, but kept stock of the cosplayer fads (Like, as I mentioned, Squall's famous rings), so she knew exactly what I was talking about, but thought I was trying to play off that I wasn't a cosplayer, so she didn't say shit, not even about the girlfriend comment. The girl got a little flustered over that, blushed even, but didn't seem to dislike the idea, and I got her the ring she wanted. Thing is, after I mentioned the girlfriend bit, I noticed Hope out of the corner of my eye, walking past the little jewelry store, on her way to other bits of the mall. It was one of those sixth sense moments, one of those, "Is someone staring at me?" moments, where you look around to see everyone's eyes elsewhere. "I was looking back to see if you were looking back at me to see me looking back at you." sort of things. I saw Hope and knew she looked at me, shocked, when I mentioned this bus-stop girl was my girlfriend, but by the time I looked, saw her, she was looking and walking away. Also, looking hella knocked up. Fuck. I excused myself from bus stop girlfriend, telling her I was gonna head to the bathroom. Well, said bathroom I went into was more of a locker room, gym sorta thing. I heard a lot of shit going down in that filthy room and was a bit apprehensive, but I HAD to piss, so I tried to find a quiet, calm area to whip it out and ended up on the 'far end' of the locker room, almost by another exit. Well, I pissed and a fight broke out, brawl, I should say. It was huge, all sorts of guys were falling out of the walls, pounding on eachother, and as a lover, I headed out the exit closest to me, that didn't have suckas brawlin' between it and I. Thing is, I was on some other end of the mall that I wasn't familiar with. My mind was more on, "Where are my girls" then "where am I?" so, I didn't find my destination very easily, and wandered around aimlessly for some time. Time between dreams. I suppose I woke up temporarily and fell back to sleep, as it was pretty segmented. I went from looking for my impregnated fiancé who broke up with me some time back Hope and my bus stop girlfriend to being engaged to an old acquaintance of mine. I read Death Note (the whole thing, even watched the first movie. Isn't modern technology great?) last week and sent a friend of mine a message about it last night, so that was on my mind. This girl I was now also engaged to I was simply using. I think she helped me out of the mall / find my girlfriend if I agreed to marry her. She also gave me something else as well... I think it was more then information, something material, perhaps large sums of cash... Anyway, I was acting very Light-like in pretending I cared for her for her 'power'. So, all I wanted to think about was spending time with my new girlfriend, but Hope was stealing most of my attention. (This is the second time I dram I hella knocked bitches up. The last time I dram her impregnated with my child, she knocked on my door 7 months in, letting me know what I had did to her, asking what I was gonna do about it. Wishful thinking. :( Guess that's why they're dreams. Still can't shake a bitch. Just when I think I have, she's all back up in my subconscious. Another Erin. :( Well, at least I got over Marissa & Jen. T_T) but anyway, I decided to say fuck it and go to a party. Mike entered back in my mind, and I guess this was with him living with Joe in the apartments, but they were different apartments. Had a pool, large back yard with lots of secluded places... Kinda reminds me of the PJs I used to live on back on 44th. Only with a pool. I went to Mike's (Or should I say Joe's Apartment, as there's a movie with that title) place to find he was having a mad party. Even Jeb, some dude I know from FFXI was there with some of his rowdy friends. So, they had a SHIT LOAD OF WEAPONS in the apartment. All melee, no ranged (aside from some 'practice' naginata). Yeah... all 'practice' weapons, I should say. There was a plastic shell on all the blades, like sheathes, only intended for actual combat (which hurt like a motherfucker, regardless. Just turned bladed weapons into blunt. >_< XD ) and we went to town on each other. Just beating each other like crazy for lolz. All while drunk and high, of course. Then we went swimming. It was just a fun ass time. All my TMF fuckers were fucking around in the pool when my new girl showed up. I guess she did know AJ after all, and through some contacting, she sent her my way (as we had her Mike 'hostage'). So yeah... my and my bus stop girlfriend just sat in the grass for a while in the dark, bullshitting, laughing at my friends fucking around in the pool, trying to get some sympathy for all my bruises from our practice bouts earlier, getting some kisses to make it feel better and all that. It was a great dream(s), albeit mellonchollie... I still hate how I still love Hope, and how I can't bring myself to say anything to her on account of me trying to be, 'the better man', 'giving her what she wants, a life without me' even though I don't know if that's what she wants or not. I'm just being a bitch, not talking to her after she broke up with me, for being a bitch, (which is my latest in a long list of assumptions as to, "WHY OH WHY DID SHE BREAK UP WITH ME?!" [Because even though I was gonna do it weeks before, I didn't, and because of that, this for some reason hurts like a motherfucker]) so I don't want to be even more of a bitch by asking, "Is this what you wanted? Me to leave you alone?" Maybe I should do that some time. Pfff... yeah, right, just like I'm gonna call my friends when I want to unpack bagage such as this instead of sharing it with you, Erica. ~_~ I get so lonely I could diiiiiie... On a side note, I'm sitting her typing listening to Addict, typing this up after watching the Puss in Boots episode on TV. That's one of those shows that hits me hard emotionally... For some stupid fucking reason. ~_~ So yeah, my heart was heavy and pain-filled because of my dreams this morning, and that didn't help, so here I am, letting it all out to you. do you think I'm listening?

In japan, Vampire translates as "No-Life King". [5th of October, 2007 ~ 3:40pm] [ mood | pensive ] [ music | The Killers ~ Hot Fuss ] I feel so pathetic, a 27 year old man bitching about living with his mother, and all the mean, spiteful things she says and actions she takes. I shouldn't even be here. I should be... somewhere else, a small appartment I can barely afford, laying on a full bed with a soft, small female lying beside me, wrapped up in my arms. Instead, I live in this 'outback' this city of independance where I live my life, instead of as a caged beast in reality. I've blamed Kameron, Hope and Jen for domesticating me, for dulling my fangs and making me tame, but the truth is I brought it upon myself. My taste for blood is all but gone, my fangs broken and dull, living off the scraps my master feeds me instead of hunting on my own. Just for a taste of excitement, I boxed with a box last night. Cardboard box my massage table came from, head butting VCRs and door frames with my steel-plated headband. Just getting the blood flowing. I landed an uppercut to the huge mass of cardboard and had to stop to admire my fist. My left index finger, knuckle in the middle of the finger is scrapped, missing a fair bit of skin and burns as if infected, but the most delicious spot is between my first and second knuckle and between the third and fourth... I've got a couple of nasty looking burns. Looks to be scarred already, and I hope that lasts. The back of my right hand is (was) covered in scars from the day back in Sophmore year, when my nemesis at the time told me to stay the fuck away from his girlfriend, my 'best friend' for a decade. "I'm the one she loves, not you." Took that hard. So hard I put my fist against a grainy wall and ran two or three meters, scrapping my hand against the wall, 'till I shredded off a great deal of skin. I bled hot pink. Never bled that before and haven't since, but it was a sight. It made me feel alive, and for a moment last night, I felt alive again. But, don't worry, today's another day and the sensation of life's all but passed. I almost loathe Sam Kieth, my respect for him is so great. At times, I fucking hate The Maxx because it's my pain bound in paper and sold for $20 for about 200 pages of my life. "Killing me softly with his scripts." I'm the hopelessly codependant bum, striving to be a super hero, just to escape the pain of my own miserable existence. I'm the broken social worker, trying to save the world around me, because I simply can not save myself. I'm the angst-filled teenager, abandoned by her father, left with an emmotionally and mentally crippled mother who I take more care in, then recieve. I'm the mystical street shaman, raping and murdering just to get noticed, so I can share my knowledge... One of my friends recently went on about how she wanted power, power to no longer be afraid of someone trying to murder or rape her while she slept, while she walked from point A to point B. Wishing to have power to survive... So, I told her to open her mind. Pay attention to the people in the movies she watches, to listen to the pain and pleasure in the music she hears, to know herself, and to know others, for that's where power lies. There was this quote I used, title for my last entry if I remember correctly, "Still the best place to think". It's a quote from The Maxx, as Julie sits on the toilet, trying to make sense of the recent developments in her life. Thought to myself, "That doesn't sound right... Isn't it, 'the best room in the house to think'?" So I picked up the second book and sat for a bit, not finding it in the begining, so jumping to the end, the continuation of the story where Jill's introduced. So, I read about Sarah, trying to find her place in the world, Jill trying to do the same, and Mr. Gone recieving an undesired apprentice. Harry's begging Gone to teach him to be powerful, to give him power, and Gone replies along the same lines I do. "Know your weaknesses, know the weaknesses of others, and use that knowledge to exploit them." "Make powerful friends." Again, tying me one step closer to a fictional serial rapist/murderer. It's hell having that shit in you. I mean, I'm sure everyone does, those urges to kill someone, where it takes so much effort just to keep your hands to yourself, to bottle up your rage and loathing and let that ignorant victim walk away with their life. Gone had a woman once, a woman he cared deeply for, but was always afraid she'd see the venom in him, see him as the true beast he feared he was. This woman asked him to take care of someone special to her, so he did what he could, but due to circumstances being what they are, a 'super hero' was born, and thus, Gone decided to let himself go. I mean, when your hero is a schizophrenic homeless man, cripplingly co-dependant, he NEEDS a villian, or else his miserable existence is completely for naught, and all the souls of the main cast in this play we call life go stagnant. So, to save the world from enertia, he became a rapist, a murderer. Let all his dark secret desires rise to fruition, not to please himself (well... okay, maybe a little. Being altruistic only gets you so far) but to get himself in the lives of Julie & The Maxx. Put him in a position to wash away the sins of the world, and free two stagnant, pain-filled souls stuck in arrested development. ...besides, this world isn't the real world anyway. Might as well have some fun with the cattle, they don't really exist after all, do they? Gods... I miss life. do you think I'm listening?

Still the best place to think. [1st of October, 2007 ~ 3:40am] So, I've changed a lot since I used to post. Back then, two, four years ago, I used to be 'cool'. Mysterious, seductive, like the evil rapist in the good anime. Now, I'm just annoying. Ugh. Just talk all kinds of shit, I'm hating it, but finding it hard to move away from it. Brought up an interesting moment, though. One of my friends was over, watching TV. Upon leaving she hit the locked door and made mention that I locked her in. Told her something along the lines of, "Of course, that way I can devour you." or something, to which she replied with "Kinky." Which was the FIRST GIRL I'VE SAID THAT TO, WHO UNDERSTOOD WHERE I WAS COMING FROM! Yeah, I've used that expression with the past 3 girls I've had a thing with, and they've all looked at me like I was some cannibalistic murderer. 9_9 It's more of an, "I want to smother your body with saliva, I want to lick you, nibble you, from head. to. toe." Which leads to another problem, "smothered". XD I guess my last girl was too timid for me (being a rabbit under a wolf, I guess I can see that). Yeah... she hated smothered as well, made her think more of a pillow over her face then 'smothered with kisses'. I can't find what I'm looking for, though. I mean, I guess I'm not really looking that hard, but I want to find me an overly-affectionate girl. Back to devour, I'm a very physical guy. "Grabby", though I prefer to grab with my mouth. 'Nothin' but the dog in me'. But yeah, my last girl again, (because even after a year's seperated, I still can't get her out of my mind) she was a proper southern girl, always kept herself made up for me, would kill the lights before she'd enter a room without her foundation (which I thought was a shame, as she was damn beautiful with or without makeup) but with my taste for her, I couldn't keep my mouth off her delectable, incredibly beautiful face... My lips were typically tinted a bit lighter, due to rubbing her makeup off with my mouth. I teased her that I tasted her makeup more then her, shouldn't've though. Kinda closed the kitchen with that, but, yeah. Lot of things went with that. But, it was good, for once, to have someone understand what I meant with 'devour'. do you think I'm listening?

Nothing will come out of it [12th of July, 2007 ~ 4:21am] Because nothing ever fucking does, for better or for worse, but I just can't fucking stand the pain. My stomach feels like a rock, and I feel like crying, like letting it all out, but I can't. I'm just in so much emotional pain right now, and I just can't fucking take it. I just want it all to end, I know if I feel anymore cold, my heart's just going to stop... But, I won't, and it won't, because I simply cannot die. Outside my place today, there were about seventeen gunshots, and no fucking chance of me taking a stray. I'm so fucking obeise that my heart should've stopped years ago, yet now I'm twenty-seven. Got some birthday money, got to the bank a day late, and bounced a check. My debit card's been revoked now. And I just don't care. I just ...yeah. Like I said, nothing I say matters because I'm not going to actively kill myself, but I just want it all to end. I'm tired of waiting for something I can never have. All I'm doing now is vile things, trying to fucking get someone angry enough with me to put me out of my misery, but I'm still miserable. I'd say, "I can't take any more of this." but that's just overdramatic drivel. I can't take any more of this, but I will. This isn't going to fucking kill me. Nothing ever fucking kills me, it just makes me wish I was dead more and more often. ...my pushdagger's in arm's reach... not even a full extention. I say to myself, "I could pick it up and plunge it into a vein" and I pick it up, I stick it to my stomach and say, "all I have to do is just forcefully exhale and I'll rip my stomach open." but, I just put it back down. There's no fucking point to it. I shiver from the cold and hopelessness... hope-less... I miss you so much. I miss you so so so so so so so so fucking much... You were my best friend, I loved you so, and you're gone. Gods... why am I so afraid of just plunging that present from Mike into my heart? So much fucking pain that I could just end in a moment... why can't I? Why won't I? Who knows? The only thing anyone knows is I'm never going to do it. Not because I'm afraid of going to hell. I AM in hell. I have no reason why I shouldn't, just, I can't. Gods... I'm so fucking pathetic... So fucking ashamed of myself. I just want some help... I'll refuse it if you offer it to me, but I just need some help. I'm just so tired of all this pain. Just so fucking tired of it. do you think I'm listening?

[27th of June, 2007 ~ 4:00pm] I'm already forgetting so much... I just took a nap, just woke up from an insane dream. I was telling ma about Arrested Development and how I wanted it on DVD for my birthday while I was trying to pin up a paper airplane to a wall full of Naruto pictures, kind of like a wall of employees of the month for the past year or some thing, you know what I mean? About two dozen mugs lined up against a wall, some full color, some black and white. So, ma made lunch earlier and had a cousin over (as happened before my nap) so, I guess one of her friends came as well, like during my nap, in my dream not while I was sleeping out in the real, anyway, she called saying she was coming over with dinner to pay us back, so I was helping ma move the table so we could open the back door to wait for her, but then, reality took a huge fucking shift, I was with Hope, and I was kind of in the sitcom Still Standing. It was funny, 'cause as I said, I was telling ma about Arrested Development, "You know the show I want?" kind of to make her 'want' it as well, which never works. So yeah, talking, pinning up a paper airplane, getting ready for her friend to come over and then I was talking to Hope, she was really weepy (last night I couldn't even talk to her due to her being so down-ish) and she was asking me all kinds of stupid questions, wanting me to ask what I thought was HER mom some shit, but it could have been my mom instead. I was supposed to say some things, 'just like I'm telling you to say them' and 'to watch her expression, let me know how she acts tomarrow' but what she said went above my head. So, I told said mother about this, and she started heaving, guess she spent the night vomiting, as that's what I told Hope the next day. Anyway, while she was telling me what to say, she was drawing on my back with ketchup and mustard which were sitting on the table, a burger joint style K&M, with the red and yellow plastic bottles with nozzle tips. So, I was getting fucking pissed, because she'd be all sobbing now and then and she'd refuse to tell me why, and, she was drawing on my back something I had no idea what, so I just stormed off to check the mirror in my hall to see what she was doing. She was 'tattooing' Waldo (Where's Waldo?) on my back. Hmmm... So I was no longer pissed from not knowing what was going on, but annoyedish that I had Waldo on my back in ketchup and mustard, and I'd hate to just wipe it off, "You don't like my art? T_T" style. So yeah, long story short, all the shit she told me to tell was an elaborate way of saying, "Dude, I knocked up your daughter (in lawish?)" without me knowing I hella knocked the bitch up. And then, as I mentioned, Still Standing. It seems that either I was 3rd party, just observing it all (which I hope was the case) or I was some fucking cheese head retard who ended up fucking a lot of shit up for Hope. Dude was supposed to take her Mustang and fix it up, but, he just fucking lost it. 9_9 It was sitcom drivel, but still amusing. ...you know, I was a lot more excited the instant I woke up, but writing this down makes it seem so fucking, not pointless, but yeah. That taking the time to try to remember this is just a waste of time. "Oooo, I got Hope pregnant in my dream, and she didn't even have the ovaries to fucking tell me. Good thing I could knock her up in my dreams, because I sure as fuck couldn't make that a reality. Go me!" What kind of looser does that make me? XD Just to be so excited about nothing. Kbai! do you think I'm listening?

[21st of June, 2007 ~ 2:02pm] [ mood | Obvious? ] I don't know what's more painful, dreaming or waking up from said dreams. I dram about Hope last night. So real, I could feel her, smell her, even taste her... She was spending some time here in Denver, I think she came to see me, which I thought was a bit wierd, as she's no longer my best friend, no longer my woman, just another friend. So yeah. She told me a week or two back that she might be moving out of her folks place in the near future, didn't say it quite like that, but that's what she said. I was curious where to, and I think I offended her by not asking, but I simply could not ask. Like I know she's talkin' to some other guy now, I'm on the back burner as I've put so many of my exes for the next best thing, but I know nothing about him, nor do I want to know. I mean, if I asked, what would I be told? "Oh, he's just a friend." or "Yeah, he's the new guy I'm fuckin'." or somethin' like that, shit I just don't want to hear. I'd rather stick my head in the sand and wait for it to pass me by. So, I couldn't ask her about her moving plans. She could be moving two blocks away to an appartment with Sara, she could be moving to Denver, she could be moving somewhere else to be with her hypthetical new man. Either way, there are too many opportunities to hear something I don't want to hear, so I don't want to risk it. I'm more of a coward then a gambler. I don't like those odds, at least. So I dram we were hanging out together, just roaming like Cave's Loom of the Land. I can still feel her, and that hurts. I'd hug her, like I tend to want to hug anyone I can put an arm around; I'm an affectionate fellow. And yeah, not only would she let me hug her, but she'd burrow on in a bit. Again, I've got a couple friends who do me the same service when I hug 'em, you know, make me feel like it's wanted and i'm not raping them with hugs. So, I wasn't putting too much into it, but again, unlike them, this was a girl I had loved, deeply. The one I'd run to at the end of a day, and even if I didnt' say much to her, just having her there with me was enough to melt away most of my pains. ~Insert Third Eye Blind's Loosing A Whole Year~ Well, yeah. I'd hug her and she'd lean into me and my heart would break, my lip would quiver, and my face would drop, if only for an instant while her head was buried in my chest. But, like our final embrace, I ended up slipping away too soon, my mind racing with thoughts of, "Does she still love me? Is she just being kind like this girl or that girl?" and, naysayer that I am, I went with the latter, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep them away from her. So, we had a while before her bus showed up, enough time to get something to eat. She asked what I thought, listing off things like, "McDonalds, or steak?". Like always, my wallet was light, so I wanted to go with McD's, but if you couldn't tell, I still lovish her, so I went with the latter. "Good. I really wanted some steak. :3" so, I look around, litterally, like do a 360 on the spot, looking for a place that sells steak, spotting a rib shack (which ISN'T a steak shack. ~_~ ) and was relieved to find I couldn't find one. So I say to her, "well, that sounded good, but I don't know anywhere around here that sells steak." I swear, she looks at me, a stare that screams, 'you fuckin' 'tard.' and says to me, "What are you talking about?" and points to the rib shack my mind told me couldn't sell steak, as it's a rib shack, y'ken? So she tells me that's the one, and we head out; I, somewhat regretfully. So, we get ourselves a nice table for two, which would've been ideal about 8 months ago... yikes. eight months since I was told I'm not allowed to be her boyfriend anymore and I'm still carrying a torch... So, we peruse the menu and I'm relieved. The meals are about $7-$8 a piece, so I could pay for the majority of it myself (though I'd still need her for like, a buck or two) and though she's not the kind of gal who'd depend on me to pay her way, I think she figured it was about time to. So, we get our food and the bill with it, I'm trying to enjoy my lunch/dinner while at the same time, curious what it came to, with our drinks and such. I look down at the bill, non chalantly, trying to scope the price without moving, or making my gaze at the sum apparant to her. Eventually, I have to move the fucking think to see the $108 beneath it. I almost choke on my mouth full of meat, and as she stares at me in curiousity, I shove a spoonfull of mashed or baked potato into my pie-hole to cover it up. A 'tough meat' kind of look and gesture gets her attention back to her own plate. A fuckin' hundred and eight dollars, when all I have is fifteenish. So, we finish and I tell her to wait outside for me while I settle the bill, in other words, plan a dine and dash. As the plan goes, I head to the bathroom to try to shimmy out a window, only to find them far too high for my fat ass to climb in and out of (going up's not the hard part, it's the coming down) and perhaps a bit too wide to go through (just like fuckin' Homer the Simpson). So, I fret for a moment, contemplating what to do. Eventually, I just walk out the front door, head hung low. So, I spot her, she asked if everything was okay, which like for every other pitfall or problem, I respond with a 'yeah'. So, she points to her bus and says it's time for her to head out. I nod out an agreement and wave to her a goodbye as she walks away to her bus. As she boards it, I think to myself that it looks more like an RTD bus then a greyhound, and wonder where exactly she was heading to. "She did say she was moving, didn't she? I wonder..." and, as I wondered, I awoke. And that was it. Another heartache for another day. Not even having a strong enough spirit to love on the girl I had hoped would mother my children, even in a dream. Aaaaah... why do I have to be so against suicide? Days like these make giving it ago again seem like a good idea. "Nobody likes you, everyone left you, they're all out without you having fun." do you think I'm listening?

[10th of June, 2007 ~ 5:23am] [ mood | Disgusted ] [ music | Type O Negative ~ Life Is Killing Me ] Poor Erica... I hope you don't have an upset stomach from all this sudden rush of posts. I'm sure you're curious why there are so many subjects ending with MS. Or not, but if you are, it's because I've killed my MySpace mind, if you will. You know that one line in The Matrix when Agent Smith has Morpheus all to himself, speaking of his drive and nature after removing his earpiece? Yeah... I'm feeling a bit antisocial at the moment, but I'm sure it's gonna pass soon. I just can't stand the smell of people, the taste stuck in the back of your throat from their scent. Especially the people I know on MySpace. I feel... they don't deserve my posts, save one or two, but they're already my friends here. I feel dirty, sharing myself with them. They don't care and I'm tired of the shocked realizations of it. It'll be easier for me to just forget I have a soul around them. Forget that I care, if I still even do. The taste's enough to make me want to vomit. But, these same people (okay, maybe not really the same people) have laid some comments on my thoughts in the past, and some of these thoughts I really enjoyed, so I took them all en masse, stole them from the underserving MySpace Blog and brought them back home, to mien vestacha... To you, Erica. I know though I've ignored you all this time, all these years, you'll still welcome me back with loving arms, and I'm back here again. <3 So yeah, just hit the tag of myspace and it'll be just like that blog, only better, because it belongs to you now, and you alone. do you think I'm listening?

I like the 4th of July, when bombs start flashing. MS [1st of June, 2007 ~ 5:10am] You know, I'm not fond of that, "Music is my anti-drug" campagn, as music is a fucking drug. I mean, think about how it hits these kids today, with bands like Linkin Park who, as Mike was quoted as saying once, something akin to, "We write songs that kids want to hear, show them that we know what they're going through.". Think of how it made your parents shake their asses and get seduced into making you. But, I'm selfish, so I'm just gonna think about myself for a moment here... Alcoholics live for that shit, as do a majority of depressed people. Thing is, alcohol is a depressant, and most of the alcoholics I know, when drunk, aren't very fuckable (like a good alcoholic should be) but instead, whiney little bitches huggin' on you and cryin' over shit you can't do a thing about. They drink alcohol when they're feeling down, and what it does isn't make them feel any better, it just throws away any inhibitions of keeping their pain to themselves, and instead, they cry in the pretzels. Marijuana's also a depressant. Downers. Sure, my info says I drink, smoke, do drugs, do your mom, do your little sister (over 16, of course) while she's sleeping, etcetra, etcetra, 'cause it's true. But, I'm a social person. You can read that as, "Yeah, I like to get fucked up, I'm just too poor to do it / I like to hide it from my ma, so if you've got shit to spare, I'm on it, if not though, I'm straight." or "Shit, s/he only does that shit to try to fit in / be cool" 'cause you read shit how you want to read it, and I can only present you with information, I can't interpret it for you. So, yeah. Like an alcoholic, turning to his burbon to soak his sorrow, I hit my cds, sometimes for a particular flavor, others I just tell the bartender to surprise me. It's a fucked up thing, though. The whole chasing pain while you're in it business. It's like, you hope that you can over-ride your pain receptors by overloading them, or something. I'm a romantic, one of the hopeless variety, and every once in a while, the sharp corner of a lovesong, a broken-hearted song hits me, and I rub the spot while wincing with an, "ow!" (or "itai!" if I'm cute, which I'm never that cute). Today, I was hunting for a song, Duvet by Boa, because I thought it would be pretty and I wanted to hear it, but I know what it is, I knew what it was, and it's pain. So, I found it after spending more hours looking for it then I wanted to, and of course, it hurt. ~_~ Stupidity, you know? You know when the electric stove's coils are red, you shouldn't put your finger on it, but the electric glow is sometimes a bit too hypnotizing, gravitational I mean. So, I found my drug in the back of my dresser, looking for a quick fix because it tastes good and sometimes takes the pain away (though I'm needing moar and moar to do the same trick) and, instead, find my pain worsened for it. The lyrics are (trite, I'm sure, by some opinions, because there's always got to be THAT person) pretty and dark, but not razor to the vein bad. The vocals are almost hauntingly beautiful, but the siren alone wouldn't make you shatter yourself against the rocks. The music is lovely, though a bit twangy for some tastes... All good aspects, on their own, but good music isn't just good lyrics or good instrumentation, or a pleasing sound; it's the combination of everything, and when this is all mixed together, it's heart~wrenching. I'll show you what I mean, via one aspect, of course. Duvet by Boa (Opening theme to Serial Experiment's Lain) And you don't seem to understand, a shame, you seemed an honest man. And all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you, And you know that it means so much, and you don't even feel a thing. I am falling, I am fading, I have lost it all. And you don't seem the lying kind, a shame that I can read your mind. And all the things that I read there, candle-lit smile that we both share. And you know I don't mean to hurt you, but you know that it means so much, And you don't even feel a thing. I am falling, I am fading, I am drowning, help me to breathe. I am hurting, I have lost it all, I am loosing, help me to breathe. I am falling, I am failing, I am drowning, help me to breathe. I am hurting, I have lost it all, I am loosing, help me to breathe. Oooooh. Oooooh. I am falling, I am failing, I am drowning, help me to breathe. I am hurting, I have lost it all, I am loosing, help me to breathe... do you think I'm listening?

ON YOUR FEET, OR ON YOUR KNEES! MS [29th of May, 2007 ~ 5:09am] [ music | Blue Oyster Cult ~ Workshop of the Telescopes ] Raise your can of beer on high, and seal your fate forever. Our best years have passed us by, the golden age of leather. FOMGZ! So, I went to the grocery store today, had to get some bread and butter. Upon exiting the store, I found my bus already starting to head home without me. Serves me right for leaving w/o a watch or schedual. Not that having either really help when riding the six. So, it's raining at the time, it was raining while I was waiting for a bus to take me to safeway. So, I'm wearing my leather and my ivy-reversed and start to hoof it home, no worries. So, I start walking home, get about half way and pow, take a nugget in the neck, an ice bb. Earlier, while waiting to get to the store, I thought some of those drops seemed a bit heavy, and wondered if they were indeed hail, which now I was sure was about. Pea sized hail was beating relentlessly upon me, and I metaphorically stood there with my fuck you finger extended to the heavens, laughing maniacally that I was protected, from shoulder to shin by leather armor, and even lamer in sense of Final Fantasy armors, I also had a hat, so I was safe! While making my first street crossing with the hail not on my back, I took a nugget to the cheek. I let out an "ARGH!" but, not the "OW MOTHERFUCKER, WHHHHHY?!" kind of "ARGH!" but the "ARGH!" of the kind of guy walking home sheathed in leather with 4-gauge holes in his earlobes and a timing chain around his neck. The kind of "ARGH!" of the kind of guy who hates himself and wishes endlessly to take a knife from some crazy sucker. The kind of "ARGH!" of the kind of guy who's a little sadomasochistic. The "Ow, that felt good. Do it again..." kind of "ARGH!". So, I continued to walk home with the sense of superiority over nature, as some hail would hit me so hard, it would ricochet off me and whiz over my head. So, I get about 7 yards from home and I think to myself, "Hmmm... after dropping off my groceries, I should go back out and stand in the storm a bit longer." At this point, my feet and legs are soaking wet, like a saytr's legs are soaking with hair. Wet jean leggings. So, I get to this point and this mind frame, and the hail goes from the double-pea size to penny, falling twice as fast, twice as big, and twice as hard. I almost got a semi. I was somewhat blinded, as my glasses transformed from sheets of plastic to sheets of water, and given the fact that the ground was as white as snow (but more excitingly, iceballs. <3) I was getting a bit anxious for home, yet reluctant to pick up the pace, so I stood (well, walked) and took it. Reminded me of when I was a pup, walking home from elementary school solo, as I walked that half mile or so every day, in a hailstorm. Man, that fuckin' sucked. I passed by a 'neighbor's house (they lived a bit away, but close enough to be called neighbor?) I found her outside, laughing at me. XD Bitch who's kid was one of my classmates, laughing at me getting pounded by hail. But, sweet little absent-minded genious that I was, I got home and told ma, "I saw Pat outside, she was laughing at me." without thinking it was anything cold or what not. Know what I mean? Just observed without understanding the context of it. I did that a LOT. Ma was livid, and I was confused at her lividity, sore, but home. So, I open the door to my house and find ma, waiting on the other side of it, like she just closed the door or summat. Kind of, I dunno, something, now that I think of it, but thought nothing but, "...get out of my way?" when I got home. Anyway, mother nature tried to beat the shit out of me today, I laughed, under my armor, then she kicked it up a notch, I got hard, a bit sore, but had a fun time with it. B.O.C. Heh, armor made me think of The Golden Age of Leather, which in turn made me think of the summer of 2001, and all the good memories I had with a gal I worked with. n_n R.I.P. good times. You'll always been in my heart, even if I find more, I'll never forget you. do you think I'm listening?

MOAR LULZ! /b MS [27th of May, 2007 ~ 5:03am] [ mood | Insomninopointrantish ] [ music | System of a Down ~ Steal This Album ] /b/ is defined by Urban Dictionary as... /b/ is the guy who tells the cripple ahead of him in line to hurry up. /b/ is first to get to the window to see the car accident outside. /b/ is the one who wrote your number on the mall's bathroom wall. /b/ is a failing student who makes passes at his young, attractive English teacher. /b/ is the guy loitering on Park Ave. that is always trying to sell you something. /b/ is the one who handed his jizz-drenched clothes to Good Will. /b/ is one who introduced you first to Goatse. /b/ is a hot incest dream that you'll try to forget for days. /b/ is the only one of your group of friends to be secure in his sexuality and say anything. /b/ is the guy without ED who still likes trying Viagra. /b/ is the best friend that tags along for your first date and cock-blocks throughout night. The decent girl you're trying to bag walks out on the date, /b/ laughs and takes you home when you're drunk, and you wake up to several hookers in your house who /b/ called for you. /b/ is a friend that constantly asks you to try mutual masturbation with him. /b/ is the guy who calls a suicide hotline to hit on the advisor /b/ is nuking the hard-drive next time someone knocks on his door. /b/ is the one who left a used condom outside the schoolyard. /b/ is the voice in your head that tells you that it doesn't matter if she's drunk. /b/ is the friend who constantly talks about your mom's rack. /b/ is the only one who understands what the hell you are saying. /b/ is someone who would pay a hooker to eat his ass, and only that. /b/ is the uncle who has touched you several times. /b/ is still recovering in the hospital, after trying something he saw in a hentai. So, I was writing this, not even five minutes ago but failed due to Pres' memory collapsing like a flan, and kernal errors. I logged on tonight simply to send two links to a friend, which I accomplished after about 7 hours. The links were found and posted within 4 minutes of my journey, but a question of this led me to this site, which in turn, led me to that site, which in turn got me hard, wanting something to fap to, which lead me to this site, which mentioned that site, and that site came from this site, keeping my hands more on my mouse then on my dick. I had more windows open then on a glass house, and still, I was hungry for more. (Besides, I found a good stroke, so all was well in the end) I found myself at the Encyclopedia Dramatica for the first time since I got this computer. It was an old bookmark on my old computer, forgotten months before I lost my bitch, half a year ago. I mean, my computer, fiveish months ago. It reminded me of, well, shit. I've been thinking recently, even had a conversation with a bra about it yesterday, but I am a very very bad man. I've done very many bad things to people I assume I care about, all for the lulz. And, the saddest part about it is, I really don't care. I'm too caught up in my own drama to care about anyone else's, which compounds to my wickedness. But, the lulz, man... Leads me to two conversations I've had in the recent weeks that I'm going to tangent off on right quick. 1) "Did you see House tonight? :D" 'YES!' "Wasn't it GREAT?! I fuckin' loved that kid..." Lead on to, "Yeah, he was fuckin' great. I love dicks. That's the reason I watch House, I love how much of a fuckin' dick he is." 'I watch it because I like the interaction between the characters, how well they know each other. Like how everyone knew exactly who (did what).' "Yeah, don't get me wrong, that's a huge draw for me as well, just, not as much as the dicks." 2) 'I hate (a certain subculture I, we, belong to) how they're such social outcasts, hiding behind their fandom as a way to alienate themselves from people, hiding behind self-diagnosed mental illnesses...' Both of these, while seeming to have no real relevance at the moment (~_~) got me thinking about things, which helped spark my conversation with aformentioned friend about what a wicked wicked boy I am (which was also fueled by the fact that, while playing a MMORPG, I was dealing 230 damage every 20 seconds to monsters, while the other 5 members of my party were spending the same 20 seconds failing to catch up to my phenominal cosmic power @ 15-25 damage a weapon swing). All this, my love for the lulz provided by fucking assholes (hospital trolls), my love for causing havok (both to MMORPG monsters, MMORPG party member's egos, and people in general) with a surprising lack of remorse for my actions, and all my painful fears and insecurities got me wanting to post something really fuckin' long and dramatic here (not that this isn't). But, I was tired. I'm still tired. I woke up some time around... oh, when was I woken up? Friday, 'round 3, about 4 hours after I went to bed, and aside from a two hour lay-down session I took between 7-9 PM tonight, I've spent about six of about fifty hours in bed. Why am I getting no sleep? Fuck if I know, I'm not getting a fuckin' thing done, that's for sure. So, as I was saying, drama. One of the first tangents I went out on ED was Attention Whore. Oh gods... the fuckin' lulz and self-shame... XD It got me thinking about all I've said, all I've done, all I've wanted to say. The pic of Gluttony, the myspace theme... it tastes more of 'attention whore' then 'I'd like to make friends with people who like Gluttony / Homunculi / 7Sins / FMA / whatever they get off my profile' and, got me thinking more. I've got a friend who's young innocent cookie-eatin' face turns fuckin' sour upon listening to your problems. S/he can't STAND listening to anyone bitch about their problems, and for a while there, I was emo about that. Said friend believes that you should just shut the fuck up and dig yourself out of your own hole. What the fuck can anyone else do to solve your problem that you can't do for yourself? I was in a hole for a minute or a year a minute ago, almost cryin', "Please, someone listen to me, I just need to speak..." but, I got over that with no more scars then I went into it. I was feelin' all, "No, you need someone there for you, to hold your hand and walk you through the darkness." which, you probably do. But, I'm not going to. XD Thanks for reminding me that I'm too... stubborn/stupid/scared/whatever to actually share my soul with people. <3 So, I'm back in the sun or whatever, but not without some photosensitivity. In other words, I'm still feeling like an attention-whore, which makes me want to claw at my skin like a Penitente in shame for it all, but instead, my mind interrupts with a, "Where does it begin and where does it end?" It's like the concept of Pride. "Pride is a sin and you're a sinner!" 'I'm not a proud person...' "Do you own a mirror?" '...yeah? (psh, what house doesn't have at least one in the fuckin' bathroom. I mean, do I brush my teeth with my eyes closed standing before it?)' "Then you're guilty of pride!" Though, sometimes said extremists do give you an inch with a, "do you look in it" instead of just being in posession of one. So, with the concept of "Everyone is Proud" one would also thing "Everyone is an attention whore." but, it's not particularly so. I have a friend who does nothing with his/her MySpace other then, shit, I don't know. Nothing really. But, just because they don't vie for attention on MySpace doesn't mean they don't have a journal somewhere they spill their guts into (though I highly doubt it) or some other outlet for their 'please please see me' indulgences, if they have them. I was so ashamed of my attentionworedom that I desired to pull down my current pic, strip my page of all it's deco and delete all these 'ohes noes shit sucks' blogs. But, instead, I post more. Go fig. So yeah, where does it end, where does it begin? Sure, Gluttony. The act of dressing up just screams 'attention whore', I'm sure. Hell, if I sat down and thought about it (not that I'm standing, I just choose not to think on it at the mo) I'm sure I'd find some attention whoring impulse behind it just as strong as; I can't walk around naked / I really identify with this character / no need to really hide the fact that I'm as wide as two of my friends, I'm not proud of it, but I'm not going to be ashamed of myself to stick to just headshots on myspace and hide my lumpy body / I did it to bolster my Greed buddy's homunculi collection / whatever other reasoning I had behind it. So yeah, 'please please see me (Beastie Boys. <3)' or as that article mention (which I do know is made COMPLETELY FOR THE LULZ AND NO FUCKING THING ELSE! To take such a fucking thing seriously means that you have no life, and should fucking kill yourself now if you're going to get all hurt and cry and shut the fuck up over something said so fucking tounge-in-cheek as that article, written by attention whores, for attention whores, describing their and your problems) all the "Posting song lyrics meant to describe their "no one understands me!" emotional states." It's one of those things where you read it and you can say, "Yeah, my girl-friend has a buddy suffers from, 'Asking people to comment on their blog, only to tell them to "fuck off" moments later, and then begging them to "please come back", over and over again.'" or I suffer from Cam Whoring or whatever but at the same time, say to yourself, "Yeah... I fuckin' love the lulz from all that drama, but damn. Get a life and give me a chance to lulz on something else a bit." or "I do it all for the lulz, but I raelly don't want all these people thinking I'm *really* that bad." All in all, I started off with, "FOMG ATTENTIONWHOAR?! ME?! NOWAI?! STFU!!1!1!!" but then coming to the realization that it's good for teh lulz, which is the best thing in this (need to get a) life. I am /b. You are /b. We are all /b (and if you're not, why the fuck not? You don't have lulzbonez?), whether you spend your life with your dick in your hand in front of it through all your free time, you've never been to /b, or like me, you're a fan who hasn't been there in moooonths (or, read, you're a fan who hasn't been option 1 in months). There is no attention whore, only /b. I need to post more often when I'm 'sober' or less often when my mind's flying on third winds. 1 smiled and dropped the cliché, do you think I'm listening?

An excerpt from ... MS [21st of April, 2007 ~ 5:02am] [ mood | annoyed ] [ music | Nine Inch Nails ~ With Teeth ] Jesus! What an exclamation, coming from a devil worshipper, what is that supposed to mean? Taking their lord's name in vain, or just old habits dying hard? REGARDLESS! I made an exclamation for a reason! I am a sick fuck, and one of these days, this fact shall be the end of me. So, I'm thirsty as a kitten, looking to quench said thirst with some tropical punch kool-aid. Thing is, the only container I had handy is the same I've been using for a while. Some time, to be honest. A gallon jug I last used for tea, and had retained some of it's stains, as the bottle had lain on the livingroom floor for about five days? Perhaps. So... I take the bottle to the kitchen and rinse the shit out of it with tap water as hot as it gets, which may not mean much in your home, but in mine I've bypassed the reccomended safety level on our water boiler twicefold. What can I say, I like my showers scalding. Nothing like loosing a layer of skin to remind you that you're alive. So, I make my kool-aid, as safe as kittens as far as I could tell, then I saw it. I don't remember how I saw it first, but, I saw something circular, white and thick in my bottle. But, alas, a trick of my eyes I call it, as I've been seeing black spots and white spots pop up and out for a few months now. So, I get myself a glass of ice and pour myself a glass full. Again, for a moment, I thought I saw something eliptical and white pour from bottle to glass (which I believe got into the bottle from a bowl of water I used to top off the jug). So, I say 'hmmm...' to myself, stick my eye in the glass, and call my expedition a failure. So, I take a chug, and something hits my throat and sticks. "FUCK! That wasn't ice! It feels hard and plastically!" So, after some consideration, I spit out a gob of punch, and hoark and wrack for a moment, eventually vomiting into the sink all the contents of my lower esophageal contents, excluding the offender. So, being the adventurous fellow that I am (and if a certain Mike tells you to avoid my 'sense of adventure', FUCK HIM! MY ADVENTURES ARE GREAT! LIVE YOUR OWN LIFE AND FOLLOW MINE!) I jam a fist in my mouth, prying at my throat with my index like I was stimulating the g-spot on a deep throat. Eventually, I seem to dislodge the offender and empty my glass orally, with some apprehension, and glass oogling (which is pointless, as I saw only one white thing, saw it pass twice, and could have swore it hit my throat... but that offender could have been anything, and my eyes could have been playing tricks on me) I finished my beverage, more thirsty then I started, thanks to the gastric acid. Was my bottle past it's time? ...I don't want to waste a gallon of a tasty beverage. Meh... should it give me a nasty infection, it'll pass or kill me. And, as I've proven to myself, if not to you, I am unkillable. If some evil-bottle-bacteria solidified into a plasticy oval wishes to kill me, the best it'll do is make me wish I was dead, and that's something I go through often enough to be bothered by a tummy ache. Why do I keep getting myself into these situations? 1 smiled and dropped the cliché, do you think I'm listening?

No one got killed in south central LA MS [16th of April, 2007 ~ 4:59am] [ mood | confused ] Too much Spider Jeruselem... I can't stop writing. If I'm not writing with my pencil, I'm writing with my keyboard. If not that, just writing in my mind... I wanted to tell you "Thank You". No, not you. That one over there. You know who you are, and you know why I'm thanking you. Unless you think it's that... which, it isn't, but thanks for that as well. No... Thank you for, well... Yeah. I can't stop. But, who would want to? 3 smiled and dropped the cliché, do you think I'm listening?

...whatever's on my eye won't go away. MS [14th of April, 2007 ~ 4:58am] [ mood | tired ] They say that sleep deprivation drives one to madness. I've found all it leads me to is sluring my speech like a drunk. I've found I can't sleep anymore. I'm not enjoying this much. I mean, sure, it gives me a lot of free time to do shit, but I'm too 'tired' to do anything with it. I close my eyes and I think, I just can't stop thinking, but I can't start thinking, either. It's just time, idled away with nothing in particular. I've spent most of that time thinking about FFXI, not because I'm an addict, but because it's a rather pain-free use of my resources. I mean, staying up 3 hours, rolling around in bed thinking about the best way to desynth leather belts to make about 5 stacks of iron ingots (10K w/ constant favorable results) or writing an epic novel of the life and adventures of Vyusher (which I actually tried, but found it VERY egocentric, and for egocentric writing, I'd rather just stick to myself. Snoogans) are, though pointless wastes of time and mental energy, are far better wastes then what I 'ought' to be spending them on. Thing is, as I said, I don't know what I'd rather think about, and to be honest, I think I prefer keeping myself in the dark. All I know is that I'm... I don't know. I feel like saying ...well, lots of things, things I ought not be sayin' when others are in earshot. Hell, when you have a certain rep, you've got to stick with it, no? It makes me think of a kid I rolled with, and thus, makes me think on why I don't anymore. I like to think I lost interest, as they (interests) seemed to split apart. I liked this, she liked that, etc... But, that's probably because I'd prefer not to think it had something to do with the, "Gee Inu-chan. You've got the ability to make anyone depressed." line she fed me. Nah... I lost interest, I couldn't've chased her off. Besides, being a monster is a lot more enjoyable then being real, don'tcha think? Anyway, I'm too masochistic, even though I really don't dig pain (i'm just used to it, and life seems lacking without it). I've been having to wake up early for the better part of this week. Thing is, when it's six aye emme, and you've been in bed for anywhere between three to six hours, talkin' to yourself instead of dreaming about talkin' to yourself, you find your only choice is to follow the pattern and keep your eyes open for the rest of the day. So, today was supposed to be an apex of my morning misery, and that was supposed to be followed by an afternoon with live music downtown. But, alas, my apointments ran long, and I ran loose and lost, and got to the show with an hour to spare. Fourty five minutes, really. Only missed an hour and a quarter. But, I enjoyed what I saw. Like Gabriel Tanaka, I felt the groove, the greatest aphrodisiac there is (other then a hecka smoove body) and I sucked that drug for all it was worth. Left the show and found the sun's rays had split the gray snowing sky, and it felt a bit warmer (but that could have been due to the groove within the heart). So, I eventually made my way home, to find an amazing flick on cable. I missed the first six minutes of it, but I saw it had Tommy from 3rd Rock from the Sun in the info, and that it was in the vien of Dashiel Hammit, so I was on it like a motherfucker. Only got to watch the first hour of it before the tv was voluntarily confiscated, but it was fucking amazing! Heh, I told myself (out loud, even) that it was enough, that I didn't deserve to watch the rest of it. "It would have made today too great. I'd have to kill myself, as it wouldn't get any better." And, here I sit, sleepless again at five aye emme, thinkin' on that movie, thinkin' that maybe I should've watched it all. I deserve some happiness as well, don't I? Well, I guess I had some happiness, and that should be enough for a creature such as I (which I'll probably spend another 3 hours, lying in bed, contemplating what that meant). Can I have a thursday, sometime soon? All these sundays are killing me. In the words of Bill Hicks, "God, I'm so tired... I need my sleep, I really do. I need about eight hours a day. And about ten a night." do you think I'm listening?

A half a cup of tuppeny rice... MS [7th of April, 2007 ~ 4:57am] For those who've been all, 'wtfwherearej00?', I've been playing FFXI. (Lakshmi server) Though it's a great game and I've got an addictive personality, that's not the reason I've been neglecting you! I lost my computer the first week of january, and got a replacement ('till I can make cheddar and get me a new BEAST) that needed some work earlier last week . Needed some work as in the only display options I had were 16 colors and about 640x480. Well, after a week or two of working on it off and on, I've got color! And 1024x768 back. And now only half the time I try to update windows, I'm told "You're running a mac, aren't you?" instead of all the time! Yay! I still have no audio, though. I can play a CD, but it's very dim sound. :.. I still can't hear the lovely ladies of Azure Ray. Or, anything else, really. BUT! At least now the computer knows it has a sound card. I think. Stayed up last night 'till 9AM writing the first two, and misc later chapters of my FFXI story: MElvaan version. Or, would have if my ass got out of bed and turned my computer back on. It was some wonderful work (perhaps the opinion was caused due to exhaustion?) but as Lucien can attend, another failed great story that lived only briefly in my mind alone. Henyway, that was completely void of a point (like my ears are void of Azure Ray) but snuck on out anyway. Back to LEVELUP!, and hopefully, to bed. do you think I'm listening?

Time to feed the monster Another package. earlier