Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
We Tend To Call These Memories
Volume I
We sat on top of these gardens, who knew our daughters become the vines while our sons cast away in particles of a leaf.
Volume II
I wasn't born on January 20th of 1991. These lights lead to nest, quilts of cancer. Slavery, families, windows, behold our sculptures. June. Dear moments place a map on these graphs. August. Monumental terminations will indeed pull away our covers and drench our rivers.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
I've Spent My Days Swinging Waiting To Be Caught
This weekend has come and gone and has become just like most things in the past. We call them memories because we'll never experience them again. My friends and I went to a show on Friday, they got robbed at gun point. This was just one string of a giant fucking puppet that I call my disgust with humanity. How can people be so fucking ignorant and shit? Its fucked up but everything is fucked up. People with fucking badges think they can boss anyone around. Cops demand respect yet give nothing back. Well, fuck that. I don't like that and I don't play by that fucking rule of social interaction. People sit in their offices every fucking day taking away money and making profit off of the vulnerable. Our society holds certain opinions higher than others. At the same time if I go out into the average day, its full of hard working people who love their family and friends and I like that. I like the faces of fathers and mothers with their children.
Home Alone 3 came out in 1997, 11 years ago. Where the fuck has my life gone. I'm 17 already. Fuck.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Wounds, Wonders, And Existence
I woke up this morning not knowing the time. I set my alarm last night but it never went off or at least I don't think it did. I guess thats how shit goes. Life's irony is pretty entertaining sometimes even though it can crush some of us. My days have been pretty light so far this week. I can't complain about them but I'm not thrilled. I'm coming to conclusions everyday. A lot of people are going to realize one day that they wasted a lot of time. I don't have anything to say.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Shift The Wall
My weekend. Friday cool. Saturday was fine too. Saw a friend. cool. Chemical Reactions. Really cool. Epic conversations with Spencer was a probable highlight. I enjoy these days but I know we'll laugh about them and I know they come and go. I'm still young, you're still young.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Chronicling The Cycles of Wind
Part One.
It had been at least fifty years since the town had paved the way for people to walk into the sea towards the eastern lands. It was also during spring a year ago that brought forth a new idea for me because I was as young as I would ever be. I have often been told that what makes humans a much more advanced creature than any other is the fact that we are able to communicate in a broad scale. From this point forward, I beg to differ with the proposition brought to me on the issue. I was sixteen and the world was behind me. There I sat admiring everything that stood around me as if it didn't belong there. This was when I learned people don't always laugh at jokes.
Looking back it must've been our common alienation from others that brought us together but the moment our sarcastic phrases and looks collided I would say was the moment in which I began to "grow up." Yet, I use the term loosely for all that has grown is my perception of the world and the motions that go on around me.
That summer, I discovered what friendship was. There the three of us stood on the pier that guided us above the water of the pacific ocean. As the children would play in the sand and with the waves, toys would be lost forever across the ocean. And as my friends and I stood like scientist in the wild we began to talk of our times together.
"Order number 42 for a Jerome." called the waitress who worked at the food place located on the pier.
That night ended like many of the nights that summer. We'd go out, have our laughs, create memories, and on the way home there'd be a car packed full of smiles wishing for the days to last.
The autumn came and so had changes. I'm not exactly sure where to begin. The days were gone. Every day I had been apart of before then was only a memory. If humans are the most advanced creatures and can communicate the best why doesn't it help me relate. I sit at school in taking these conversations yet everything seems so far away.
"I only had sex with him because he kept on begging." The girl across from me would say trying to justify past doings.
"So it was a pure pity fuck? He just enjoyed it as you lay there like a rag doll?" I tried to clear up this information in my head.
"...Well, whatever. That was a year ago. Now I have a boyfriend and we've been together for 8 months. He asked me out on," she continued with the date but I was only half listening and can't recall such a petty fact, yet she continues with the exact time.
"How the fuck do you know exactly what time he asked you out?"
It had been at least fifty years since the town had paved the way for people to walk into the sea towards the eastern lands. It was also during spring a year ago that brought forth a new idea for me because I was as young as I would ever be. I have often been told that what makes humans a much more advanced creature than any other is the fact that we are able to communicate in a broad scale. From this point forward, I beg to differ with the proposition brought to me on the issue. I was sixteen and the world was behind me. There I sat admiring everything that stood around me as if it didn't belong there. This was when I learned people don't always laugh at jokes.
Looking back it must've been our common alienation from others that brought us together but the moment our sarcastic phrases and looks collided I would say was the moment in which I began to "grow up." Yet, I use the term loosely for all that has grown is my perception of the world and the motions that go on around me.
That summer, I discovered what friendship was. There the three of us stood on the pier that guided us above the water of the pacific ocean. As the children would play in the sand and with the waves, toys would be lost forever across the ocean. And as my friends and I stood like scientist in the wild we began to talk of our times together.
"Order number 42 for a Jerome." called the waitress who worked at the food place located on the pier.
That night ended like many of the nights that summer. We'd go out, have our laughs, create memories, and on the way home there'd be a car packed full of smiles wishing for the days to last.
The autumn came and so had changes. I'm not exactly sure where to begin. The days were gone. Every day I had been apart of before then was only a memory. If humans are the most advanced creatures and can communicate the best why doesn't it help me relate. I sit at school in taking these conversations yet everything seems so far away.
"I only had sex with him because he kept on begging." The girl across from me would say trying to justify past doings.
"So it was a pure pity fuck? He just enjoyed it as you lay there like a rag doll?" I tried to clear up this information in my head.
"...Well, whatever. That was a year ago. Now I have a boyfriend and we've been together for 8 months. He asked me out on," she continued with the date but I was only half listening and can't recall such a petty fact, yet she continues with the exact time.
"How the fuck do you know exactly what time he asked you out?"
"I looked at my phone how else!" she explained.
As the conversation went on, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her and it wasn't because I was attracted to you but because I was fascinated with how unattractive she was. Her hair was piss yellow after a failed dye yet her brown roots had already came in so it looked even worse. She had bucked teeth and the most obnoxious voice I've ever heard.
She went on talking about her boyfriend when I just couldn't stop but blurt out, "why don't you just fucking cut time and just fuck your boyfriend endlessly , wreck you life, have an abortion, and die of carbon monoxide poisoning so I can at least go to sleep at night knowing the world isn't as ignorant as you are representing it to be."
-But no, that was just my head saying that as I nodded along to what had become background music.
That winter was one of the wettest yet. I managed to catch pneumonia after I laid out on my grass during a of rain storm. As I look back on the memory, I believe I was recalling other memories at the time. How perfect of a symbol for the deprivation I had felt that day. If you didn't know me you would believe that I was on drugs but I tend to blackout sometimes due to a medical condition and this experience can be traced to my blackouts. But this blackout was different than any other. I was on the wettest grass I have ever seen in my life yet it felt so comfortable and warm inside as I was overwhelmed by this warm feeling. The clouds were moving mountains and the wind was carrying tomorrows flower seeds, yet I had managed to relate everything to events of the past summer. Its a shame you can't hug the sky.
"Jerome! Jerome!" my mom called yet I never answered. I just laid in awe of the drenched quilt that hangs over us all.
He walked into the room as I lay on my warm bed.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked about my pneumonia.
"Eh... I suppose so. I guess it wasn't such a good idea to lay on the grass like that huh..." I replied.
"It was a blackout wasn't..." he questioned.
"-No," I interrupted and tried to explain what went through my head because thats what best friends try to do. "Listen, Greg... It was more than a blackout. I wasn't blacking out. I remember everything quite vividly. You see..."
"It wasn't a blackout?" he interrupted.
"Uhh, no. I wouldn't say so. Whats the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" I asked.
"I, uh... I don't know but what does this have to do with the 'blackout'?" He asked wanting to find out.
"This was a portrait painted for me." I simply stated.
I was back in school after two weeks of illness and went back to my regular routine. Wake up early, get a ride, learn, take the bus, home. I enjoy taking the bus and it is an experience that revives the human spirit for me daily. The seat I prefer is the very right seat at the very back so I can have a clear view of the people we past. I tend to see mothers holding children, fathers working for families, daughters going to school, brothers reading books, nephews riding bikes, everyone living part of their lives totally unaware of mine and my existence. I pass by a neighborhood I once knew that summer.
"Do you ever listen to radio free europe?" asks a man who I assume is in his fifties. He wears a leather jacket to keep him warm and comfortable denim pants. I noticed that he was looking at me for a few minutes. I could tell his destination was the Veterans Hospital the bus passes by on its route.
"I don't believe I've ever heard of radio free europe..." I answer
He began to explain to me the way it works and had somehow began to dwell o the days of his youth.
"My brother and I grew up on a farm together with our family. We're not so far apart. I remember how we would have to do chores like cleaning the hay and helping take care of the harvest. My father was a proud man and taught us the importance of work. After work my brother and I would have all the fun any two young boys could ever ask for. We'd play games such as Indians and Cowboys. We had so many hills around our house and we would run u and down these hills until the sun set. When the sun was setting we'd lay on the grass and make out shapes of the moving clouds. As we grew older we spent more summers together promising each other we'd always be there taking care of the other. He was my older brother, my hero. One time a few of the older kids had taken my ball and my brother took it upon himself to demand it back. As small of an act as that seems, it meant the world to me. The war started and we were both drafted. My brother promised everything would be okay and nothing would happen to me because he wouldn't let it. He taught me survival skills to assure my well being. We had plans towards our futures after the war, We would manage our own farm and spend even more summer days together with out harvest. The war was horrendous, yet nothing happened to me and I came out scar free. My brother had been deployed earlier and would be home a month before me. When I came home, I had so much to tell my brother. I came home to find the house with only our parents. I ran in expecting my brother there. He must've been hiding in his room with a surprise for me. I searched the house until I ran into his room only to find his military uniform with medals there and a home for flowers. I began to yell his name 'Jonathan! Jonathan, come out please!' My parents came to the room and gave me their hand to put on my shoulder, a symbol to confirm the fact if my brother's fate. I collapsed to the floor and this river of tears began to circulate on the hardwood floor. The river soon became an endless ocean of grief." His voice had begun to crack and his eyes were glassy as he turned to me, "Do you have a brother?"
"Yes, a younger one. His name is Allan" I answered.
He stood up to make his way out of the bus but before his voyage began he looked at me and said, "Love your brother very much and summers don't last forever."
I went home that day and helped my brother out with his part of the chores as a demonstration of my affection. When we were little we would make up our own games and rules. Our childhood home consisted of a large backyard which was also the home of the biggest tree I had ever seen. My dad attached a rope to the tree that my brother and I would swing on. We spent endless carefree days swinging and sharing smiles. We would create a small baseball field using our dad's tiles as bases. We assumed a batter should knock the base before a pitch was thrown and we would always break the tiles in the process. Every run to home was just another way to make life seem endless. Our elbows would be stained by grass, our knees covered in mud. No Yesterdays. No Tomorrows. Only today.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
I Can't Imagine What Clouds Feel Like
So its getting pretty hot now and I'm not sure if I like it or not. School was alright yesterday just because it was a minimum day and everything went by fast. In sociology we've been began talking about cultures. Part of the discussion involved a talk on what values, knowledge, customs, and physical objects our culture indulges in. I get pretty frustrated hearing some of the fucking dumb ass responses people come up with and they're completely serious. When asked about where our knowledge comes from some people answered "religion." If you're knowledge comes from religion then you're a fucking idiot. You can't expected a vague book to give you all of life's answers. It creates this mind set that you follow blindly. I laugh when christians criticize other religions and make fun of them because they're "weird." Go examine your religion. I just don't see the logic in thinking the world was actually made in seven days and the first living beings were Adam and Eve. There is also a lot more bullshit in the bible. Religion is just a way to control people. If you base all of your morals on religion instead of your own judgement, then something is fucking wrong with your mental process. When it came to the values part everyone yelled "money" like fucking wild idiots. If you value the "right" to fuck over others and to be able to be fucked over at any given time then I really don't know what to tell you besides the fact that you're an ignorant piece of shit. I don't think a capitalist democracy is great like people say it is. Its pretty much bullshit. We've come to the point where your vote doesn't count and its the corporations that foster their approved choices. American culture is probably the most ignorant egoistic culture ever and I have come to hate it.
Anyways, I don't really know how should I feel right now. Nothing in life is horrible right now, but its also not a sunny road. I don't know if it will ever be. I think people who seriously think life is the best thing ever are fooling themselves or forcing themselves to think that. How do people feel as they lay during their final moments of life expecting this "light" to take them away from the earth and all they get is the darkness that comes with eternal sleep. Fools.
Something that I have taken as the biggest joke ever is the city of Lakewood. I think a big piece of shit fell from space onto earth and people began to inhabit it and called it Lakewood. For the most part its full of the biggest douches I've ever seen. The school is pretty fucking bad too. The kids are fucking horrible. Cool girl pants. Cool hair. So your parents bought you a camera and you now think you can take good pictures. Go fuck yourself. So last year you were all about some stupid scene fad and now you're buy American Apparel and thinking you look cool. Go fuck yourself. I really hope one of the pieces of shit from Lakewood read this. I'm not sure if it's the stupid scene kids or the white trash bros that are worse. I really can't make up my mind. I think this is the only time I'll take the bros side because the fucking scene kids are too ridiculous. At least the bros don't bounce around shit cuming on one fad to another. I'll end the rant here.
Well I've uploaded some albums I think you'd enjoy (at least one out of the three).
Give Up The Ghost - We're Down 'Til We're Underground
http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?n0jzmc21tvm
This is probably the best hardcore album I've ever heard and I'll go as far as saying one of the top 5 best punk albums. So ridiculous how much this rules. The lyrics are amazing and so is the music. Band is fucking great.
Cap'n Jazz - Discography
http://www.mediafire.com/?ndnzvjl3oam
Makes me feel like a kid.
Girl Talk - Unstoppable
http://www.mediafire.com/?0lx0tuxnyzn
People should party more.
Anyways, I don't really know how should I feel right now. Nothing in life is horrible right now, but its also not a sunny road. I don't know if it will ever be. I think people who seriously think life is the best thing ever are fooling themselves or forcing themselves to think that. How do people feel as they lay during their final moments of life expecting this "light" to take them away from the earth and all they get is the darkness that comes with eternal sleep. Fools.
Something that I have taken as the biggest joke ever is the city of Lakewood. I think a big piece of shit fell from space onto earth and people began to inhabit it and called it Lakewood. For the most part its full of the biggest douches I've ever seen. The school is pretty fucking bad too. The kids are fucking horrible. Cool girl pants. Cool hair. So your parents bought you a camera and you now think you can take good pictures. Go fuck yourself. So last year you were all about some stupid scene fad and now you're buy American Apparel and thinking you look cool. Go fuck yourself. I really hope one of the pieces of shit from Lakewood read this. I'm not sure if it's the stupid scene kids or the white trash bros that are worse. I really can't make up my mind. I think this is the only time I'll take the bros side because the fucking scene kids are too ridiculous. At least the bros don't bounce around shit cuming on one fad to another. I'll end the rant here.
Well I've uploaded some albums I think you'd enjoy (at least one out of the three).
Give Up The Ghost - We're Down 'Til We're Underground
http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?n0jzmc21tvm
This is probably the best hardcore album I've ever heard and I'll go as far as saying one of the top 5 best punk albums. So ridiculous how much this rules. The lyrics are amazing and so is the music. Band is fucking great.
Cap'n Jazz - Discography
http://www.mediafire.com/?ndnzvjl3oam
Makes me feel like a kid.
Girl Talk - Unstoppable
http://www.mediafire.com/?0lx0tuxnyzn
People should party more.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
If Only The Morning Proceeded To Night
I've pretty much have been ____________. I have a dentist appointment this morning but no iPod and I feel like it'll be the longest day ever of my life.
You should wake up to this, pretty amazing
Explosions In The Sky - Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Live Forever
http://www.mediafire.com/?wjxzyvtt0wn
Close the night with this or vice versa
Explosions In The Sky - The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place
http://www.mediafire.com/?wjxzyvtt0wn
"Yeah"
Eyehategod - Dopesick
http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?je2l53nboki
This just rules
Girl Talk - Night Ripper
http://www.mediafire.com/?vnddzzwtitf
You should wake up to this, pretty amazing
Explosions In The Sky - Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Live Forever
http://www.mediafire.com/?wjxzyvtt0wn
Close the night with this or vice versa
Explosions In The Sky - The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place
http://www.mediafire.com/?wjxzyvtt0wn
"Yeah"
Eyehategod - Dopesick
http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?je2l53nboki
This just rules
Girl Talk - Night Ripper
http://www.mediafire.com/?vnddzzwtitf
Monday, February 25, 2008
In A Wilderness of Light
Today was pretty good after 4:00 p.m. I was picked up my Kyle, Laura, and Michael. We picked up Richard and "jammed". It ended up really good. Its looking up. We then went on a quest for spray paint and a long sleeved shirt for Kyle which ended up empty handed. Laura and I played a game of hunting while at Walmart. Michael and I planned our battle for humanity against the Walmart zombies. We visited our friend Danielle at work which is funny because she's a sandwich artist at Subway that gives free meals. Laura went home afterwards and we dropped off Michael at Erik's house. I noticed that I didn't have my ipod. I guess Laura has it in her purse. "Fuck". Tomorrow is going to be dreadful at school and during my dentist appointment. So flashback to our hunt for Kyle's stuff, we were in the parking lot of Target and I was telling Laura a story by showing her something. She made a statement. I guess she's half right but I wish she was 100% right.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
an ocean at the center of the world
The past two days have been really good and are above par on my usual scale of "life experiences". A lot of my favorite things have been apart of the schedules of activities and I suppose thats what makes a "good time". The school week is pretty shitty to say the least. I sit drowning in every class as I am expose to the stupidity of the world and mankind. Ask myself, "This people are actually going to have fuck each other and have kids and be part of our society helping make decisions with ideas of 'progression' and what not?" Fuck, they are. As I sit around in the quad area at lunch everyday with my oh so clever cynical view of the surroundings, I look around at all the people around me and at all the couples, social groups, and individuals. I always go off in my head wondering, what do they do on the weekends? What are "important" issues to them? What are their feelings on life? Is it more than your "bros", getting head by a drunk naples girl, nasty beer, your macho ego or the fake tan you wear? What do the average high school couple talk about? I kind of wish I had an example of a "serious" conversation between a couple because I'm sure it'll be laughable. You see, Mr. Dick on the football team is going to grow up and go to college because his parents can send him, get a job, get married, get kids, go to church, vote on limited government taxes and an aggressive foreign policy, teach his son how to be a man, go hunting, fuck his wife, get old, not being able to get a boner, getting viagra, being able to get a boner, fucking a secretary, dying. As he grows up he'll go along with Ms. Clit who is apart of some stupid sorority or school activity and will grow up and go to college because of her parents, get a job, get married, get kids, quit her job, love jesus, mindlessly agree with her husband because god forbid any spics or fags or whores enjoy anything, relive her youth and go to the gym as she strives on dressing and looking like she is 25 again, fuck her husband and her gym trainer, teach her kids the morals and teachings of the lord, dying. Where do these people connect? I believe its under the make up and testosterone and not knowing its their shallow meaningless lives. Your dad goes hunting and you look like you're overweight with down-syndrome as you make "funny" comments and send "funny" pictures on internet so you can seek praise from your peers yet the funny thing is you found them on someone else's shit and little clever you uses it to reinforce the massive douche you truly are. Congratulations.
As I was saying earlier, my past two days have been good. I've been with legitimate people. Backyard show friday night in a sketchy city called El Monte which ended up to be really fun. Right when my friends and I were getting in the car, we see police helicopters fly over the neighborhood and three cop cars go down the street. Its pretty much self-explanatory. Last night was really good as my friends and I attended a gathering and other states of mind. I'm coming to conclusions now and I'm not sure if thats good or bad. I think while at times I enjoy my experiences, life in general is still a blur. I know I'm young and one day I'll look back with maybe a chuckle of laughter or a grin of regret but no matter what this is a moment I'll probably see as the least miserable time. Its kind of weird saying that because at times life is miserable yet I still don't have a solid opinion on it. Every time I look at both sides of the issue, I look the other way because I don't relate. There are people who have this angst and feel the need to show it off like a trophy scar as they wear it with the slipknot or fall out boy shirt their parents bought them at hot topic for $25. They're the kids with the studded bracelets creeping around the halls with their hair in their face thinking a pop star feels their pain. If their parents don't buy them hair dye then they might fall into another pit of depression.
"Why are you sad/angry/ect.?" "What makes your life bad?" "What are private schools and the suburbs like?" .No.Answer.
Look at the other side of the spectrum, there are people who "love" life. Life is this amazing journey you share with friends smiling in a game of bumper cars. Love your friends, family, and right hand. Really? How foolish. I suppose ignorance is bliss. I can't ever say I "love" life because there is a bunch of bullshit in this world. I can't say I'm grateful for my life because I didn't ask for it and I don't see it as a favor to me. You can't be grateful, this is the only life you're experiencing so what is there to compare it to? In all honesty, I like my friends. I like them a lot and I'm glad their my friends. I think thats the good thing about friends, it makes the standard of living a lot better. Yet, I look around at the path we "should" all follow. Love. Marriage. Family. And everything else that shits on your parade. I think marriage is a bunch of bullshit. The idea that there is "someone" out there for you and they will complete you as they fill in every whole in your life is absolutely ridiculous. "You are the one for me." You will never know that. Have you taken a survey of everyone in the world to determine that? There isn't this force that brings you two together forever. I think marriage is a negative thing because it sets you up for this mentality and failure is not an option so you're trapped like a slave your whole life dragging around a family and bullshit responsibility like a dead leg. You're husband beats you but you stay because its god's will. How can you be in love with someone forever and stay with them? A person changes in their life and can become many personalities and phases throughout time. Which one do you love? Its the one of yesterday but you hold on to that memory as you staple it to the physical image that lays next to you in bed.
I'm positive that I'll never get married. I'm not saying I won't have a partner but marriage is something I'll never take part off. Kids are pretty bad for me too. I don't want kids. It is a danger to my life. I don't want to go through the bullshit ordeals as my kid progresses from student of the month to failure of the year but I will reconcile with them in a tearful reunion made by a therapist in which we'll say "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you." Thats not for me. I'm not up for the job to ruin my life and "fun". I'm not up to become a role model. The only part I'll miss out on is the part where you teach your kid and influence them as much as possible so they won't turn into a failure or douche bag. I'm kind of considering becoming a high school teacher to fill that void. I'm not sure what life has to offer me. It doesn't offer anything since I'm living now and not tomorrow. I suppose thats why my position on life is unconfirmed, because I have not seen the whole only the little chapters.
When it comes down to it we're just these craters on the moon waiting for a vessel to sink and I'm starting to realize how lonely the moon really is through my own reflection.
I think I'm going to write a book.
This is my internals, you should follow it too. download it here: http://www.mediafire.com/?zvzmzsyfcvm
As I was saying earlier, my past two days have been good. I've been with legitimate people. Backyard show friday night in a sketchy city called El Monte which ended up to be really fun. Right when my friends and I were getting in the car, we see police helicopters fly over the neighborhood and three cop cars go down the street. Its pretty much self-explanatory. Last night was really good as my friends and I attended a gathering and other states of mind. I'm coming to conclusions now and I'm not sure if thats good or bad. I think while at times I enjoy my experiences, life in general is still a blur. I know I'm young and one day I'll look back with maybe a chuckle of laughter or a grin of regret but no matter what this is a moment I'll probably see as the least miserable time. Its kind of weird saying that because at times life is miserable yet I still don't have a solid opinion on it. Every time I look at both sides of the issue, I look the other way because I don't relate. There are people who have this angst and feel the need to show it off like a trophy scar as they wear it with the slipknot or fall out boy shirt their parents bought them at hot topic for $25. They're the kids with the studded bracelets creeping around the halls with their hair in their face thinking a pop star feels their pain. If their parents don't buy them hair dye then they might fall into another pit of depression.
"Why are you sad/angry/ect.?" "What makes your life bad?" "What are private schools and the suburbs like?" .No.Answer.
Look at the other side of the spectrum, there are people who "love" life. Life is this amazing journey you share with friends smiling in a game of bumper cars. Love your friends, family, and right hand. Really? How foolish. I suppose ignorance is bliss. I can't ever say I "love" life because there is a bunch of bullshit in this world. I can't say I'm grateful for my life because I didn't ask for it and I don't see it as a favor to me. You can't be grateful, this is the only life you're experiencing so what is there to compare it to? In all honesty, I like my friends. I like them a lot and I'm glad their my friends. I think thats the good thing about friends, it makes the standard of living a lot better. Yet, I look around at the path we "should" all follow. Love. Marriage. Family. And everything else that shits on your parade. I think marriage is a bunch of bullshit. The idea that there is "someone" out there for you and they will complete you as they fill in every whole in your life is absolutely ridiculous. "You are the one for me." You will never know that. Have you taken a survey of everyone in the world to determine that? There isn't this force that brings you two together forever. I think marriage is a negative thing because it sets you up for this mentality and failure is not an option so you're trapped like a slave your whole life dragging around a family and bullshit responsibility like a dead leg. You're husband beats you but you stay because its god's will. How can you be in love with someone forever and stay with them? A person changes in their life and can become many personalities and phases throughout time. Which one do you love? Its the one of yesterday but you hold on to that memory as you staple it to the physical image that lays next to you in bed.
I'm positive that I'll never get married. I'm not saying I won't have a partner but marriage is something I'll never take part off. Kids are pretty bad for me too. I don't want kids. It is a danger to my life. I don't want to go through the bullshit ordeals as my kid progresses from student of the month to failure of the year but I will reconcile with them in a tearful reunion made by a therapist in which we'll say "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you." Thats not for me. I'm not up for the job to ruin my life and "fun". I'm not up to become a role model. The only part I'll miss out on is the part where you teach your kid and influence them as much as possible so they won't turn into a failure or douche bag. I'm kind of considering becoming a high school teacher to fill that void. I'm not sure what life has to offer me. It doesn't offer anything since I'm living now and not tomorrow. I suppose thats why my position on life is unconfirmed, because I have not seen the whole only the little chapters.
When it comes down to it we're just these craters on the moon waiting for a vessel to sink and I'm starting to realize how lonely the moon really is through my own reflection.
I think I'm going to write a book.
This is my internals, you should follow it too. download it here: http://www.mediafire.com/?zvzmzsyfcvm
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
I wrote this short story
Wrote this for creative writing. Did it in one day. Last minute thing.
I Will Lay My Divinity In A Tragedy
“I have an encyclopedia of my own, that I use t keep me warm but its hard when all the pages are ripped out. I’ve been on these urban streets a year now since today is January 31st, 1988. People say the world will end in twenty years when our planet is blown up after a U.S. / Soviet Union nuclear world, ask yourself ‘why not now?’ “
As he lay in his cold room, he just imagined how life was 15 years ago when he was a child. It was at the age of seven that some of the older kids in the neighborhood were pushing him and as he hit the ground a young man told them to fuck off. This feeling of gratitude over took him.
“Are you okay?” asked the Good Samaritan.
“Yes, I just scraped my leg…” he explained in a soft voice.
“Let me take a look at that, big guy. What’s your name?” asked the young man in a voice similar to Mr. Rogers.
“William,” he replied.
“Here take one of these,” the nice man reached into his bright yellow bag full of lollipops.
The memory soon faded and the night passed into the morning hours. William’s morning started as he made his way into the grey rugged busy streets of Los Angeles, California.
William had this way if walking and talking that created an attractive persona. William was somewhere in between James Dean and Charles Bronson. He would lean against a liquor store everyday and today was no different.
Around 10:00 it was when a young man pulled up to the liquor store and peeked out of his window.
“How much?” he asked as he made a hand signal for a sexual act.
“Eighty,” replied William in a professional matter as he made his way into the car.
We may never notice the small things hidden in the background of our everyday lives, but its funny the way they seem to notice us. As the deal between William and the young man was going through, there stood a middle-aged man across the street observing William like a mother watching over her nest. His heart pounded with fear every time William would get in the car. It can almost be described as the fear parents feel when they drop their kids off at school hoping they won’t get their heads blasted off by a guy in a trench coat.
“Father Benedict!” called a local market owner at the middle-aged man.
“Why, yes these are the fruits I was looking for. Thank you very much and may the lord bless you,” replied Father Benedict.
Father Benedict was a charming man with shiny blue eyes that accompanied the gold cross he carried around his neck everywhere he went. He was entering his 14th year as a Priest at the local church where he preached every Sunday. Father Benedict was a simple man whose needs were mostly met when he would get on his knees and pray. When he would pray, he would start crying and ask for forgiveness.
It was across the street from William’s usual pick up spot that Father Benedict would watch over William. As shameful as he was about it, Father Benedict could not lie to himself. He was in love with William and fantasized about being with him forever.
As William was finishing up in the young man’s car he looked straight into his eyes and couldn’t stop this feeling he had inside. These people’s lives were his and they have given them up to him.
Father Benedict was making his way past the liquor store later that afternoon when he bumped into William and Father Benedict dropped his bible and a bag.
“I’m so sorry,” said William in a concerned voice as he bent over to retrieve Father Benedict’s bible and bag.
Father Benedict was nervous and stuttered, “Its…okay young man, what’s your name?”
“William,” answered William as he handed over the bible and bag.
At the very instant that William handed Father Benedict the bible and bag, he noticed that the bag was bright yellow and there were lollipops in it.
At the very moment that Father Benedict heard William’s name, did he look in his eyes and remember the young boy from 15 years ago.
“Why, thank you boy… I mean William. Thank you for picking up my stuff. Have a lovely day and may the lord bless you,” said Father Benedict in a nervous tone.
“No… Problem. Same to you,” replied William as he was in awe of the Father.
As Father Benedict walked away towards his church he looked up into the gray sky and as if he were talking to the sun said, “15 years ago I saw the son, Jesus Christ and today I saw God, the father.”
William left wishing he had showed the father his gratitude and regretted not saying anything in fear that he just ruined his only chance. Father Benedict knew he had another opportunity tonight at the cafe where William often socialized during the fourth evening of the week.
William was in fact there that night and Father Benedict was ready to spark a conversation. As soon as William walked in, Father Benedict approached as if it was by chance that they ran into each other again.
William was the first to speak, “Father! How strange that we meet again today. I’m pretty glad to see you.”
“Ah boy. I’m glad to see you too,” said Father Benedict as he moved the plan forward. “Would you like to take this conversation to the house of God?”
William was thrilled and enthusiastically accepted the invitation; he couldn’t wait to show Father Benedict his gratitude. Once seated in Father Benedict’s room in the church, William began to talk about the day 15 years ago when Father Benedict saved him. “It was me father, I was the boy you helped. Thank you so much,” said William as he went to hug Father Benedict.
“I know boy, I know it all William. I love you,” said Father Benedict in an affectionate voice.
William soon tried to break away from the hug, as Father Benedict held tight. “Father, I think its time for me to leave. I have to go.”
“You can’t leave… I love you. This is your home. Didn’t you hear me William, I love you…” cried Father Benedict.
“I can’t stay here, I only came to say thanks.” William tried to break free but couldn’t until he pushed Father Benedict and punched him.
Father Benedict began crying but attempted to keep William by chasing him and calling William’s name.
As William ran out the church into the cold rainy night, Father Benedict fell on his knees in the front of the church and yelled, “William, come back! This is the house of God; this is the house of God! You are God! This is your home! William! This is the house of God…”
Father Benedict made his way to the wine and sat in the chair he sat on every Sunday during mass. He poured the wine all over his mouth as it spilled on him and the floor. He began to mutter in misery as he pulled a dagger to his neck.
William made his way to his home as he calmed down he looked out the window into the gray night sky that hung over the city. Pollution and city lights eclipsed the moon and stars but tonight they were clear even if it was just William’s imagination. He lay on his bed silently as lonely as the city. An encyclopedia lay on the floor of his mind and he knew he had to bind the pages together.
Father Benedict’s flesh hung out of his neck greeting the wine that had spilled. His last words were, “Deity was a fantasy, and God was here but left me sitting in my own reliquary. Heaven’s spew its wine at me and now I prepare to dine.”
I Will Lay My Divinity In A Tragedy
“I have an encyclopedia of my own, that I use t keep me warm but its hard when all the pages are ripped out. I’ve been on these urban streets a year now since today is January 31st, 1988. People say the world will end in twenty years when our planet is blown up after a U.S. / Soviet Union nuclear world, ask yourself ‘why not now?’ “
As he lay in his cold room, he just imagined how life was 15 years ago when he was a child. It was at the age of seven that some of the older kids in the neighborhood were pushing him and as he hit the ground a young man told them to fuck off. This feeling of gratitude over took him.
“Are you okay?” asked the Good Samaritan.
“Yes, I just scraped my leg…” he explained in a soft voice.
“Let me take a look at that, big guy. What’s your name?” asked the young man in a voice similar to Mr. Rogers.
“William,” he replied.
“Here take one of these,” the nice man reached into his bright yellow bag full of lollipops.
The memory soon faded and the night passed into the morning hours. William’s morning started as he made his way into the grey rugged busy streets of Los Angeles, California.
William had this way if walking and talking that created an attractive persona. William was somewhere in between James Dean and Charles Bronson. He would lean against a liquor store everyday and today was no different.
Around 10:00 it was when a young man pulled up to the liquor store and peeked out of his window.
“How much?” he asked as he made a hand signal for a sexual act.
“Eighty,” replied William in a professional matter as he made his way into the car.
We may never notice the small things hidden in the background of our everyday lives, but its funny the way they seem to notice us. As the deal between William and the young man was going through, there stood a middle-aged man across the street observing William like a mother watching over her nest. His heart pounded with fear every time William would get in the car. It can almost be described as the fear parents feel when they drop their kids off at school hoping they won’t get their heads blasted off by a guy in a trench coat.
“Father Benedict!” called a local market owner at the middle-aged man.
“Why, yes these are the fruits I was looking for. Thank you very much and may the lord bless you,” replied Father Benedict.
Father Benedict was a charming man with shiny blue eyes that accompanied the gold cross he carried around his neck everywhere he went. He was entering his 14th year as a Priest at the local church where he preached every Sunday. Father Benedict was a simple man whose needs were mostly met when he would get on his knees and pray. When he would pray, he would start crying and ask for forgiveness.
It was across the street from William’s usual pick up spot that Father Benedict would watch over William. As shameful as he was about it, Father Benedict could not lie to himself. He was in love with William and fantasized about being with him forever.
As William was finishing up in the young man’s car he looked straight into his eyes and couldn’t stop this feeling he had inside. These people’s lives were his and they have given them up to him.
Father Benedict was making his way past the liquor store later that afternoon when he bumped into William and Father Benedict dropped his bible and a bag.
“I’m so sorry,” said William in a concerned voice as he bent over to retrieve Father Benedict’s bible and bag.
Father Benedict was nervous and stuttered, “Its…okay young man, what’s your name?”
“William,” answered William as he handed over the bible and bag.
At the very instant that William handed Father Benedict the bible and bag, he noticed that the bag was bright yellow and there were lollipops in it.
At the very moment that Father Benedict heard William’s name, did he look in his eyes and remember the young boy from 15 years ago.
“Why, thank you boy… I mean William. Thank you for picking up my stuff. Have a lovely day and may the lord bless you,” said Father Benedict in a nervous tone.
“No… Problem. Same to you,” replied William as he was in awe of the Father.
As Father Benedict walked away towards his church he looked up into the gray sky and as if he were talking to the sun said, “15 years ago I saw the son, Jesus Christ and today I saw God, the father.”
William left wishing he had showed the father his gratitude and regretted not saying anything in fear that he just ruined his only chance. Father Benedict knew he had another opportunity tonight at the cafe where William often socialized during the fourth evening of the week.
William was in fact there that night and Father Benedict was ready to spark a conversation. As soon as William walked in, Father Benedict approached as if it was by chance that they ran into each other again.
William was the first to speak, “Father! How strange that we meet again today. I’m pretty glad to see you.”
“Ah boy. I’m glad to see you too,” said Father Benedict as he moved the plan forward. “Would you like to take this conversation to the house of God?”
William was thrilled and enthusiastically accepted the invitation; he couldn’t wait to show Father Benedict his gratitude. Once seated in Father Benedict’s room in the church, William began to talk about the day 15 years ago when Father Benedict saved him. “It was me father, I was the boy you helped. Thank you so much,” said William as he went to hug Father Benedict.
“I know boy, I know it all William. I love you,” said Father Benedict in an affectionate voice.
William soon tried to break away from the hug, as Father Benedict held tight. “Father, I think its time for me to leave. I have to go.”
“You can’t leave… I love you. This is your home. Didn’t you hear me William, I love you…” cried Father Benedict.
“I can’t stay here, I only came to say thanks.” William tried to break free but couldn’t until he pushed Father Benedict and punched him.
Father Benedict began crying but attempted to keep William by chasing him and calling William’s name.
As William ran out the church into the cold rainy night, Father Benedict fell on his knees in the front of the church and yelled, “William, come back! This is the house of God; this is the house of God! You are God! This is your home! William! This is the house of God…”
Father Benedict made his way to the wine and sat in the chair he sat on every Sunday during mass. He poured the wine all over his mouth as it spilled on him and the floor. He began to mutter in misery as he pulled a dagger to his neck.
William made his way to his home as he calmed down he looked out the window into the gray night sky that hung over the city. Pollution and city lights eclipsed the moon and stars but tonight they were clear even if it was just William’s imagination. He lay on his bed silently as lonely as the city. An encyclopedia lay on the floor of his mind and he knew he had to bind the pages together.
Father Benedict’s flesh hung out of his neck greeting the wine that had spilled. His last words were, “Deity was a fantasy, and God was here but left me sitting in my own reliquary. Heaven’s spew its wine at me and now I prepare to dine.”
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Life.Currently.
I woke up on my friends hardwood floor tonight. i've started old habits but they aren't as pleasing as it used to be but its something to do. My schoolwork is good. I'm currently watching the real housewives of orange county and i'm amused by the intelligence level of other individuals. Hit me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
