Sincerely, Fuck You.

That's about it.
Fuck you, fuck you. Aaaaaaaand fuck you.

hmm..

Wait...

Oh yeah, FUCK YOU.










That will be all.

Ah, wait the hell..


:)

stupid metaphor poem number 3?

fuck.

im just going to let it all spill out on the carpet that's dirty anyway, so no big deal.

well i finally fell down and cast all the crowns that were never on my head in the first place into the void. im empty. the staircase is long and the number of stairs is too much to think about right now. im not thirsty. im not hungry. thought escapes me and i descend into myself and find a stranger that never left the building and he is sad and small and confused. he had everything figured out and the last thing he remembered was the hope and joy of all the things that were happening in his life before the train came through the tunnel and made everything go white. it was bliss and he disappeared into it.

now this new stranger moves into his carcass and sees the pages that were written and tries to keep the story going. but his pen is new and he has no experience in this genre of books. so he writes what he thinks will best fit the chapter. but freelancing isn't a guaranteed job and only pays well when the season calls for it. Time passes on and the book gets full, with lots of filler but plot points that are very promising for a good story.

The book has it's emotional highs and lows, character development and story arcs that would keep any reader addicted. things take a turn for the better and the reader enjoys all of these things but realizes that the story is kind of dull with no suspense. the writer is confused by the reader not wanting anymore of the good things and realizes he will have to pay for those chapters that were lacking brevity and with no audience, writers block takes it's toll.

No longer serving any purpose, the new embodiment decomposes and eventually breaks, leaving the vessel once empty again. The stranger that once was wakes from his coma to find what had become of his story. Confused and discombobulated, he slowly examines all of these things that are good and bad. A decision is made that everything is what it was supposed to be and that the story must go on. This time asleep has gotten him well rested and prepared to continue this book and make sure it is seen until the end.

It will take some time in order the rewrite and edit all of the fuzzy and messy parts, and refine and tune all of the beautiful and vibrant moments, until the story is linear and all set to go for a new audience to turn the cover and discuss all of their favorite parts at an overpriced coffee shop at mid day.

it doesn't have to make sense to still have meaning.

i turn my thoughts into strange little poems. sometimes they're about life.
sometimes they're about potatoes.

illusion. or just saying it for today.

It's amazing how many moods you can be in in one day.

I miss being distracted. I'm the deer that never gets caught in the headlights. Fully aware of his surroundings. Deer are beautiful animals. I need something to do.

I find that no matter what most things that i want to do, even the simplest of things, are held back by a lack of twenty dollars.

I miss when i was fifteen and the internet was a never ending stream of new information. Now i get bored after checking social networks and watching a few youtube videos.

I would love to skate right now. Or just drive somewhere. No destination. But without coin, i can only dream and type these things out.

I honestly hate video gamers. Sorry, but go the fuck outside and stop paying $60 for a disc. No offense to any of my gamer friends, but fuck. Come on.

I think im going to die of a brain aneurysm or stroke. Something random like that. I cracked my skull once and things haven't been the same. Not for the better or worse, though.

Here's some romantic shit i came up with a couple of months ago:

" A bad man will cross a woman's line.
A good man will wait for permission.
A great man will make her forget why
there was a line to begin with."
- Corey Copeland

CHEESY HALLMARK SHIT.

Just came to me one day.

I think i'll have a glass of wine and call it a day.

Stay classy, San Diego.




..i'm Ron Burgundy?

Well if it isn't a ramble..

So i write and i write and i write and i smoke and i drink and i think. and all of these things are a vicious little habitual circle that i trap myself into every now and then but NEVER like this. This is just time being served. I'm at a job and i put in my two weeks notice but the other job hasn't come through so now my state of being is on hold while some really annoying elevator music keeps playing and i never reach the ground floor so i can get off this damn thing.

I'm not bitter, im just not patient. And im always broke. Other addictions take over my spending habits and since the tank fell of the wagon I've kinda been dragging behind. I pull into the pit stop but there's no one there to tune up my car. It's like not knowing how many laps you have to race, but definitely knowing the tank is on empty.

I seem to be writing more. Or just writing in general, i suppose. I think about so many things and here lately the thoughts have bottle-necked and getting to know my blog space a little better has allowed me to tuck those (these, i suppose) thought to bed with a soft warm blanket and bedtime stories to boot.

I now do this for me, for my therapy. And i feel like a total complete fucking asshole for abandoning all of my friends so many years ago. And it was a dick move! Selfish as I could be. We all have our shining moments but i was really close to you. I lost some of you to drugs, some to religion and hell even some of you are still in that old part of town.

The effort i put fourth is petty at best, and I've made some mistakes and i've made some of the best decisions of my life. But i have got to grow. And i have grown, and changed. I've done a lot of things and not really nothing all at the same time. I feel like i shouldn't be thinking like this. I'm in my early twenties. I should be getting drunk at parties or going to a college and finding my career path or something. Instead I just THINK. I'm in a bubble and the only thing to pop it is the needle sitting on the ground beside me..

right outside of the bubble...dammit.

Positives.

For the black there is the white. I guess it would be better to say "for the night there is the day" because the former sounds racist. Aaaaaand humor! Other things are going well. Everyone in my small family unit seems to be doing fine. Things are shifting around in a big way and it's scary and awkward and strange, but in the end it will all be for the better. The lull of the winter i suppose is getting to me when i just see the grey. Things are still vibrant. Music lights my fire and i need to put lyrics and sound in the brownie batter and make some good dessert soon. Financial stability is a must, before anything!

I'm happy and insightful and am learning new schools of thought on the mind, soul and body everyday. You have to feed you soul when it's hungry. I crave the sound of beautiful music more than ever now. Just to drive and let it hit you, you know? Like when you driving down a long ass road for an hour or two, with the environment very nature driven. No other cars on the road and it's about mid-day, leaves falling and the sun is dancing through the trees.
then that perfect song comes on and you just FEEL IT. Nothing else like it. ramblerambleramble.

I've tried once, tried twice and im done.

much love.


"So let go of the sorrowful groaning
Let go of the ones you admire
It's not like I was devious or boastful
My arms waving, I'm saying goodbye
And I will do my best to breathe for you"

- mighty :: manchester orchestra::

The Moon, My Confidant.

Nicotine and alcohol have infiltrated my system and yearn my soul to search for some creative within but find thoughts and left behinds instead. Feeling like a total asshole for not knowing a good bit of my family all too well and having lost a good portion of my great friends. Life keeps changing and new pieces are being stripped away and old layers come to the surface, but are corrupted and incomplete so i add some of the pieces from the new particles that i've gathered up until this point and make a calico texture of being that forces my self out of the puzzle that i thought i fit in so well. But now that im out of it i see that some of the other pieces we're heavily augmented as well. This mkaes me feel less agressive about the situation but doesn't necessarily give me more completion for the picture isn't pretty anymore. Then im saddened at the fact that the whole damn thing was a fabricaton in the first place.

Lies, confusion and pain can make for some fucking beautiful art, though. I especially shouldn't have forgotten about that.

Rearranged and slightly hit with a pound of elatedness, i gather the leaves of fall and put them in a bucket rather than a trash bag, not good to throw all of them away. Even the dead ones have some merrit in the grand scale of things. Inspiration of the drums and guitar hit my core at an incline that restarts a fire in my heart that i didnt know had went out. Still very confused and lost about everything going on i wonder why i feel the need. Attention? Gratitude? helplessness? I have these things moving in my consciousnesses like a stranger in my bedroom reading my journal and taking notes as in to collect the tax of my society and passes through the window, reminding me that he doesn't have to use the door. HE IS ALWAYS HERE.

Truth, lies, aggression, depression, happiness, solitude, completion, wanting, needing, craving, denying.

Refresh, restart, revamp, reset. I have had enough of the complex and need to escape but the walls have no doors and the cieling is open but very high from where i am standing. Again my mind distracts itself with mundane boring everyday and i live in and out of doors that revolve around the universe that is. Just is.

Away in the woods is the little boy who was shifted and moved and toggled and i look in the eyes of the child who stretches many miles ahead of him down the road and i promise him that he will never understand those things and that i will always love him and hold his hand and explain that the clouds are there for the sun as the moon is there for the night.

My angel in remiss has come to the table and we discuss how the brakes in the car stopped working and that repair is inevitable and not optional, so there are no worries. I put my back to hers and remind her that that's where it will alwayls be, holding hers up. We exit unfairly but still, just into the wildness of the world and talk about our analytical codes and how deconstructing them would be a meaningless en devour.

Metals turns to rust but is stil stable enough to hold the structure together until the doctor can repair the lungs. He says you can't breathe without them. i take me chances and drive in the fog anyway. For now i will buy a watch and a chair and wait for the apocalypse to finish the job that i tried to start so arrogantly and sip the sweet nectar's of change that await me outside of the fallout shelter.

I meet a maid named Patience and she says for me to let her clean my house and she will make sure all the books go back on the shelf. They may not be in order, but they wll always be there. i pour another glass and light up the night as the sun creeps up around the corner..

it having no idea of the night the moon and i shared together and dreamed of tomorrow.

Laziness will mess you up something fierce.

Procrastination.

The reason why you, my dear reader, aren't enjoying as many articles as you could right now. Also the reason why I probably have less than five followers. O_o But I digress. The thing is that by the time you get to the point where you are finished with all your work and everything is caught up and squared off, tucked away, cleaned, scrubbed and buried (don't ask) all you want to do is sit.


and sitting is awesome.

Now that's cool, but NOT when there's a weekend to be had. I mean, it only comes around once a week. So you sit up and you say "I will not do this to myself again, dammit!!" Affirmative action is key here and you want to get to CD Warehouse and back before Chili's closes.


it ain't gonna eat itself.

But as you sit on your throne, you see the small green light of your xbox controller blinking in circles, indicating that the batteries are indeed very low. And you think "Perfect! I'll be responsible and start here by putting in new batteries." Go you. You did it, man. Now lets put on some pants and get on the move!


pants required activities are almost always worth it. almost always.

Wait a minute. Wesman7213 is online and he's inviting you to a Halo Reach party with JesusCooksEmAlive003 and socksmeller14. You know it will be a fun time, and hey what's one game, right? There is never one game. SO that goes on for four hours, stores are closed and your hungry and pants-less. What now? Bed? F-that. It's the weekend, son. It's time to DO WORK.


500G

So you get in your car, your pumped and excited to see what shenanigans you can get into in these wee hours of the morning. You phone and text everyone you've ever had contact with hoping to god for some human interaction. No one answers because half of them are at home getting rest for Saturday, the best day of the weekend, and the other half are on xbox live. And your not going back to that dark place again.


*cricket, cricket.

After you grab some much needed IHOP rehabilitation in the form of french toast and bacon, you've decided to count your loses and collect what's left of the day and call it a night. You wake up about mid-afternoon in the most confusing haze of you entire life, hoping like hell that the time is wrong (it's not, btw). Now half of Saturday is over and your panicking. There's four text messages from you friends somewhere along the lines of "Where are you?", "This movie is AMAZING", "John Stamos was at the Olive Garden, man. It was crazy!!" and "I stole your cat. Sry, but he loves me more than you."


your not fooling ME with that beard, Stamos!

Great. Once again you let this drive to do nothing rob you of a legendary day with guaranteed laughter and good times with friends. Now all you have is a missing cat and leftover breakfast food. Is it even worth it to continue the day? It's getting close to nightfall and you can feel the buzz of the city, so you decide to soldier on and see what activities are going down. Off to Facebook to get the scoop and everyone's whereabouts and going-ons.


. . .


Yay! Everyone is doing something fun tonight! So and so is going to a movie, this person is hitting up a bar, that person is seeing a concert. "Hell yeah, i am going to have a GREAT time tonight!" you awkwardly exclaim to yourself out loud. You get ready to go and run through the events to see which event you wanna go to. The concert sounds exciting, but it could require standing for a long time. Going to a bar would be neat too, but you want to be entertained, not entertaining.


seriously..

A movie! Sitting, eating and watching a film with friends is the obvious choice. So you make the arrangements and now it's time to pick the movie. Everyone has settled on an action flick, but your in no mood for Steve Austin. The gas is on empty, you've only got four bucks anyway, so staying home is the best option here. But if we're doing that, then we need to make this night epic.


if this is what your seeing, then mission accomplished.

You decide on an evening of the best junk food money can buy an a Quentin Tarantino movie marathon. And to make this all inclusive evening more epic, you decide on a taking a shot everytime you see some feet (Tarantino loves him some feet. That and trunk POV's) By the time you get to Kiil Bill Vol. 2 your shitfaced and you dont wanna pass out before Reservoir dogs.


take a shot for every shot!

So you get up to change the DVD and three steps away from the couch you start swaying and babbling nonsense and BAM! You awake to a sideways view of Michael Madsen's face and notice that you've landed face-first in the kitty litter. You cat has returned and is quite confused and very disappointed in what his owner has become.


again?

It's over. You did the best that you could with your free time, and hey, wasnt that bad. (it was worse) But your in luck, because it's Sunday, the day that laziness created. Sit around and waste away for hours. Just then your phone rings, so you give it an answer only to hear your boss saying things like "It's Monday, two o'clock, where are you?" and "Swear to god you excuse better be damn good" followed with "Good news, you've made someone very happy, the temp is full time now."


and we all know what happens to the temp.

No job. No money. But look on the bright side, PERMANENT WEEKEND!PERMANENT WEEKEND!


^ he knows ^

A Couple of Flicks You Should Check Out.

Recently I sat down for a horror movie double bill with the movies "Devil" and "Buried".

I picked these two up without even realizing that they are both very claustrophobic films, all with one taking place in an elevator and the other taking place in a coffin.



The premise of "Devil" puts five strangers in an elevator together of all different races, ages and creeds. It begins with the ever-present "hey, we're all in an elevator together, its a little cramped, but its cool." type of set up. And then, as fate would have it, the elevator gets jammed.


"Not so cool anymore."

Well, tensions rise and claustrophobia sets in and just before you thought that help was on the way and things couldn't get any worse, Lucifer Morningstar makes a guest appearance in the joint.


"Did I interrupt something?

The drama that ensues is pretty much a guess who of which one of the strangers is the Devil. Not gonna spoil anything, but the film grows more intense as it reaches it's slight twist of a conclusion. It definitely has it's creepy moments.



NOW if you thought that "Devil" was a tight quarters movie, then take a double shot of "Buried". This thing LITERALLY takes place in a coffin. The entire movie. No joke.

But it is tense as hell, man. You really do feel trapped in there with this guy. For the most part, truck driver Paul Conroy is an average Joe with a family back home, whom he is away from because he is contracted through a trucking company in Afghanistan. His convoy is ambushed by terrorists and the next thing he knows is waking up in a coffin, in the middle of the desert.


"And being buried in sand is not a fun time."

To heighten the tension even more, Paul also has a cell phone that was left in the coffin with him by the terrorist. Calls include crys for help to family and friends, getting in touch with the trucking company, talking to the FBI and some creepy calls he receives from his captors.


"Is your refrigerator running?"

"Buried" got the job done with keeping me clenching my jaw the whole time, and your heart really goes out to this poor guy trapped in this horrible situation. Ryan Reynolds does a fine job showing you the desperation of this character.

SO if your bored this weekend and need some entertainment for a couple of hours, these two will get the job done. Grab a pizza and give 'em a go.