| THE HANGED MAN |
[Jan. 8th, 2008|10:16 pm] |
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I hate the saying, "You can only go up from here." Or something similar. What you don't realize, you bastards, is that its a fucking bottomless pit. If there is no limit to up, there is no limit to down. Once you start to understand the concept of infinity -- it is very real, you've heard of it, you might even vaguely comprehend it yourself -- the last bits of slippery rock you have to cling to in that vast merciless ocean of all, of ever, is relative. The goddamn Joneses grass is certainly always greener. I feel like I have to turn back to the base things, "What makes me happy?" But it is not enough to simply endure anymore. What is it? |
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| Video Blog One |
[Jul. 6th, 2007|01:49 am] |
I dare you not to fall asleep. |
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| rotate |
[Jun. 30th, 2007|06:33 am] |
i have drank
one drink to much
and now drunk
i close my eyes
and feel
the world spin
too fast for me
to comprehend |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 3rd, 2007|04:57 pm] |
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THUD! With a thunderous clap, a large man trips over the rug and falls headlong into the front door. Everyone just stands there for a moment as he lays unconscious. A few people near the back continue to eat and talk, unaware. Micah, at the host stand, watches the whole thing and picks up the phone and dials 911 thinking it much more serious because of the thunder. The man opens his eyes just as Micah hangs up the phone, and stands up. It takes him a moment to figure out what happened as everyone asks him if he is alright. He becomes embarrassed when he realizes everyone is looking at him. Where am I? I am changing downstairs. I just got cut, made a whole ten dollars. I come up to flashing lights dancing on the walls. A fire engine spans the length of the restaurant, taking the whole view to the south. A group of rescuers and paramedics are in a huddle at the front. I order my shift drink, a shot of Bushmills. The shot hits the bottom of my stomach and sits like a little fire. I go out and between the paramedics and the ambulance and on down the street and up the stairs to the bridge and past the junkies shooting in their fucking knuckles, how godawful, and across the bridge to the train and home. |
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| God knows what the hell |
[Oct. 25th, 2006|10:43 pm] |
This will seem like a flood of incoherent nonsense. It is. It is not.
Do everything. Experience everything. Everything is nothing and nothing is everything. I say this mostly to myself. Good or bad, it is only good. There is only one way. I believe that it is good. Its relative. Believe me. Believe me not. Whatever. I cannot express how there is only one way. Words are like photographs of thought. They are not real. I can't trust them and either can you. Did you know .999...=1?
Do you like stairs that go up?
Or stairs that go down? |
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| coffee and cigarettes and milk and cookies |
[Feb. 27th, 2006|10:19 pm] |
I'm making myself feel bad. So, I keep going to make myself feel worse. What can be done to make this better? Nothing. These goods are damaged and no matter how reworked and fixed it gets, its still flawed. Oh, Elliott Smith, why do you have to be so damned good. Why do I love to do this? Coffee and cigarettes and milk and cookies. She talks to him all the time. I know it. She just doesn't get that it kills me. It will kill us.
Random encounters, that wouldn't be random if given enough time, have twisted things up this past week and I've met Gilly and Dand, who will be my new roommates in our nice house. |
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| spirit animals |
[Nov. 15th, 2005|04:24 am] |
Hemingway always makes me feel like less of a man. How can he go around being like that pillar of rock with a gun in his hand, that man of men, and drink absinthe all the time like some goddamned hippie? I wish I was like that. Oh, god how I wish I were.
I'm going on a spirit quest this weekend. My friends and I are going to find our spirit animals. We will open our minds with the help of carefully selected fungi. A part of me is a afraid that I will find that animal to be this man I want to be so bad. I guess I wish I wasn't that man. Oh, but I do.
I'm in a state. I guess I should let sleep drown it for now. |
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| The rainy season has begun. |
[Nov. 7th, 2005|05:26 am] |
Freedom has cast its cast iron shackle grip around my wrists, my circulation cut off and my hands growing cold and numb. They mindlessly work their way around the workplace buying my freedom at the expense of saving these companies millions of dollars as I mindlessly verify numbers and somehow reduce fraud. But -hey- I'm independent goddamnit. INDEPENDENT GODDAMNIT. It has a nice ring. For some reason though, my freedom feels like slave labor.
Well, basically my whole existence as of late can be summed up by the following event that just happened in my life: I downloaded Star Wars 3 and didn't watch it right away. One night, Maya and myself wanted to watch a movie, but she hasn't seen the previous Star Wars and didn't want to watch it. So I wait until the next day, being today, and watch it. It turns out to be Paris Hilton porn. Now, I can't tell you how disappointed I was in watching Paris Hilton having sex.
I want light sabers. |
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| Tell me stories. Tell me off. (Brand new colony.) |
[Jul. 29th, 2005|03:55 am] |
A car drives by and I hear the familiar flops of the newspapers hitting the driveways, echoing away. Flop. Flop.Flop. Flop. I've heard this almost every morning for a month now. I look up and see it is a little after three. Maya and I just finished having a "discussion." A "discussion" is when I talk in a normal voice and Maya's voice peaks every so often and is at a pretty constant loudness the whole time.
I found out that I don't owe that much on my school loans. This means I could go back to school full time, get more loans to cover everything and get a fucking degree. Just, I don't know if I want all those loans. Its funny that I have to pay off a loan that I took so I could go to school so I can get a loan to go to school. And I'm going to school to get a job that will pay off the loans. I guess I'll learn something. Which is why I want to go.
I don't know what I wanted to say anymore. I wanted to type this an hour ago. Basically, I wanted to drone on about how much I hate myself and blah blah blah. God, I hate this shit. |
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| plans |
[Jul. 18th, 2005|07:04 pm] |
The heat is a thousand pounds I don't need to carry. It presses me down, my face inches from the pavement, my hands dragging around. I look like a monkey that maybe got into a terrible accident when it flew into the sun. Melting. Maybe.
I ate too many raspberries as I picked them. My hands are still stained. My stomach is still turning.
I am at some sort of stalemate with myself. Life moved all its pieces to match mine, none really trying to break the other. Everything has come down to one thing and what it takes to maintain it. That is pretty easy. But do I want that forever? No. As it stands, life is done with me. Its done moving its pieces. And I'm about ready to violently throw the whole goddamned chess board against the wall.
I need to throw something against the wall.
Give me that.
I want to make movies. I want to build furniture. I want to... to... I think I've narrowed it down. |
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| My hammock broke and I hurt my elbow. |
[Jun. 18th, 2005|08:31 am] |
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As I set up my Mac Mini in my new apartment, I look at Maya and think that I'm not living my life, but just watching it. I had a dream that the moon had sort of blown up and when it rose in the night sky, it looked like an orange peel. My dad is getting married again. Third time's the charm, right? This means flying back with Maya--thats the plan at least. Which will probably be more surreal than any moment I seem to be watching me live here. Pick me up and set me down somewhere warm. I wanna surf too. So, there's gotta be ocean, damnit. He calls up two goddamn weeks before he's getting hitched. Luckily I just kinda quit my job. Don't ask. I couldn't tell you. Which is why I just printed off fifteen resumes. I actually had two interviews at the Levi's Store. Interesting. I won't get it. I looked like I just got out of bed each time. I'm gonna go get a glass of orange juice now and make a toast to irreversible debt. |
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| Graduate. |
[Jun. 4th, 2005|01:54 am] |
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Normally I go to bed alone. I will again, but not in my bed. I really don't know what to do with myself most of the time. I can feel some sort of energy inside me, but it hasn't found a way out yet. I see these people and I think, "Oh, yes..." or "Maybe thats it..." But once again, I really don't know. I think my whole being can be desrcibed as "set one notch above average." What do I do anymore? Where do I go for advice? I don't have anyone to tell me some things. I need someone to find me and in me the ability that needs an outlet. |
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| 23 and I'm old now. |
[Apr. 21st, 2005|07:00 pm] |
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I got a bike that I ride around all over the city. Its on the warmer side now and its the best thing. I'm looking for a cheaper place to move. So, if you or anyone you know needs a roommate in Portland, please let me know. -- Work is OK. Its not the most glamorous job ever, but whatever. -- Ups and downs with Maya. Mostly its ups and downs with herself. She is actually sleeping right next to me. I wish more than anything else in the world that she accept herself and not try to fit into the mold of the magazine girls. She wants the body of a boy and has the body of a woman. If she doesn't accept this, she will never be happy. |
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| Flight connecting in Kalamazoo. |
[Mar. 27th, 2005|04:07 pm] |
Her eyes are like mood rings flashing at me, sometimes copper pennies and sometimes greens. Her lips are like strawberries pouting at me, ripe, I bite, and leave bruises on them.
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I will soon be the coolest dressed person ever! I got a job at Goodwill.
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Life is weird, you know?
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I'm sad. |
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heritage's journal
