It is often easy to let yourself do whatever you want and not question yourself in the slightest. And thus the seeds of tyranny are planted. However, when you question yourself, you win. And the seeds of tyranny are unable to sink their roots into the earth. Of course, this is an odd thing for me to write about because I often do something to the contrary: do what I think feels right without questioning myself. Weeds cover windows and doors. And that in turn explains why I'm always left scratching my head, ashamed. Oblivious.
Because fighting yourself is difficult is probably why this is one of the greatest victories one can ever achieve. The battle against the self is not to say that you have to loathe and abuse yourself in order to be great. You have to know when to hold back and control yourself or even do something out of character, in order to keep yourself from fucking up completely. Why is this important? Why is this great? Why does this matter?
It's important that you learn that you can't always get what you want and that you have to grow up. As such, you have to fight with yourself in order to learn about yourself. What you can and cannot do, what you know and don't know, and things like that.
This is great because at the core, everyone is some kind of narcissist... in the sense that everyone is full of some sort of self-love, however much it may or may not be. To fight against yourself and realize that you love yourself enough to disagree, it leads to progress. How difficult is it to harm something you care about? Whether it's tackling a friend who is like a brother to you? But you do it for their own good, not just because they're drunk out of their fucking mind.
This is a matter of relatively great importance because I have to repeat myself. The most difficult thing in the world is harming something you care about and love. The self is that: something you care about and love. Once you can say, "No, I will not allow this to hurt me." and control yourself, you'll be able to go on and do greater things.
Hmm.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Falling Down
Falling down is one of the easiest things in the world to do. As it is, you have to fight for almost everything you have. Your entire life consists of conflict and friction. All for the sake of progress and movement forward, survival. Falling down is easy because you just stand still and let everything knock you down. Moving forward, marching through deep mud and heavy snow for the smallest shred of happiness is incredibly difficult. It's a worthwhile pursuit: fighting forward.
It's bloody, it's chaotic, it's a fucking mess
but goddamn it, it's for the best.
It's bloody, it's chaotic, it's a fucking mess
but goddamn it, it's for the best.
Pine to Town
I was not yawning, I was not sleeping.
All that could be done was write a sonnet.
Attempted to get closer to dreaming
and feeling warmth like a sweet cabaret.
The experience started off wrong.
Saw a dinosaur dancing with a tree
I trembled as I sang my wretched song.
The tree looked over and laughed! Laughed at me.
Surrealism has a funny way
of being and existing around us.
It's bizarre, it's pleasant, and here to stay
regardless of how much you bitch and cuss.
Winter bleeds inside, smothering it all.
Poetry rises up: brings down the wall.
All that could be done was write a sonnet.
Attempted to get closer to dreaming
and feeling warmth like a sweet cabaret.
The experience started off wrong.
Saw a dinosaur dancing with a tree
I trembled as I sang my wretched song.
The tree looked over and laughed! Laughed at me.
Surrealism has a funny way
of being and existing around us.
It's bizarre, it's pleasant, and here to stay
regardless of how much you bitch and cuss.
Winter bleeds inside, smothering it all.
Poetry rises up: brings down the wall.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
2012: The (Allegedly) Final Frontier
2012 is nigh!
Draw thine swords and spears!
Stab death in the eye!
Stare down thine fears!
2012 is upon us!
Abandon hope for the death to the stream of stars!
The planet, left weak
humans, its scars!
2012 will make Earth crash into Mars!
No!
While it is true that 2012 is upon us, there's really should be no reason to lionize so greatly a rather mundane phenomena: the changing of a year. In a sane and reasonable world, this would be written off as just another year. But as you know, this world is far from sane and reasonable. This rock floating through space is just an enormous madhouse with sanity and irrational behavior clashing at every possible point. Read a history book if you don't believe this.
2012, in a large part of Western culture, is seen as special and unique. Well, the end of 2012 is seen as special and unique albeit somewhat ominous and foreboding. In reality, the closing days of 2012 are just another mystery waiting to be revealed by time. Of course, that doesn't stop our insanity from coming up with theories and ideas. Many of these theories and ideas seem to involve a doomsday, or a poetic ending of some sort to our way of life. A(n) (not very poetic) example being that middling Emmerich movie "2012". I have to admit that at first I was annoyed that such a bad movie could get something so sacred (for want of a better term) and turn it into whatever the hell ran for 2 and a half hours. The point is: some of the things that this 2012 phenomena has inspired are stupid and some are more sane (or far less stupid).
The inspired belief that there is change approaching is all right. There is no mention of widespread devastation but of some sort of transcendence into a higher form of mental thinking (if I recall correctly). Still, I'd rather 2012 actually mean something if people are going to hype it up so damn much. By "mean something", I mean: hopefully something will finally click and we as a population of approximately 7 billion will work together towards helping each other out. Of course, the likelihood of this happening is rather slim as history as countlessly passed down the same story: people, for the most part, are assholes. Another year may or may not make an enormous difference (or live up to the ridiculous hype).
All the hype does is set us all up for an amazing fall. Think back to that y2k millennium bug thing and how people actually snuffed it to avoid that alleged apocalypse. My prediction for 2012: not much. There might be some degree of change but it won't come in the form of enormous earth shattering tidal waves or even extraterrestrials (though that would be neat). The only thing that can be said with certainty is: it's a mystery.
Regardless of aliens or poles shifting, I'll do in 2012 what I've always done every year: try. Try to be good, try to do good [sic], try my best, and etc
Yeah, for some reason, the optimist in me won't die.
And that's pretty damn good.
Draw thine swords and spears!
Stab death in the eye!
Stare down thine fears!
2012 is upon us!
Abandon hope for the death to the stream of stars!
The planet, left weak
humans, its scars!
2012 will make Earth crash into Mars!
No!
While it is true that 2012 is upon us, there's really should be no reason to lionize so greatly a rather mundane phenomena: the changing of a year. In a sane and reasonable world, this would be written off as just another year. But as you know, this world is far from sane and reasonable. This rock floating through space is just an enormous madhouse with sanity and irrational behavior clashing at every possible point. Read a history book if you don't believe this.
2012, in a large part of Western culture, is seen as special and unique. Well, the end of 2012 is seen as special and unique albeit somewhat ominous and foreboding. In reality, the closing days of 2012 are just another mystery waiting to be revealed by time. Of course, that doesn't stop our insanity from coming up with theories and ideas. Many of these theories and ideas seem to involve a doomsday, or a poetic ending of some sort to our way of life. A(n) (not very poetic) example being that middling Emmerich movie "2012". I have to admit that at first I was annoyed that such a bad movie could get something so sacred (for want of a better term) and turn it into whatever the hell ran for 2 and a half hours. The point is: some of the things that this 2012 phenomena has inspired are stupid and some are more sane (or far less stupid).
The inspired belief that there is change approaching is all right. There is no mention of widespread devastation but of some sort of transcendence into a higher form of mental thinking (if I recall correctly). Still, I'd rather 2012 actually mean something if people are going to hype it up so damn much. By "mean something", I mean: hopefully something will finally click and we as a population of approximately 7 billion will work together towards helping each other out. Of course, the likelihood of this happening is rather slim as history as countlessly passed down the same story: people, for the most part, are assholes. Another year may or may not make an enormous difference (or live up to the ridiculous hype).
All the hype does is set us all up for an amazing fall. Think back to that y2k millennium bug thing and how people actually snuffed it to avoid that alleged apocalypse. My prediction for 2012: not much. There might be some degree of change but it won't come in the form of enormous earth shattering tidal waves or even extraterrestrials (though that would be neat). The only thing that can be said with certainty is: it's a mystery.
Regardless of aliens or poles shifting, I'll do in 2012 what I've always done every year: try. Try to be good, try to do good [sic], try my best, and etc
Yeah, for some reason, the optimist in me won't die.
And that's pretty damn good.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Marked by Emptiness
A life that goes on without any form of validation is often one that is marked by emptiness. Not necessarily because validation itself is missing but because the factors that form (or in pieces, form) validation, are absent.
But is a validated life necessarily one worth living? Depends what validates it. Something generally good and worthwhile that benefits more than just the self is a good example, no? What's an example of that? Friendship. If you don't have a friend and go through life all alone, something must be off. I don't mean to say that you should surround yourself with people all the time everywhere you go. What I mean is you should know someone you can trust and talk to on a deeper level than just "someone I make small talk with every now and then".
What if one chooses isolation/to be away from everything and everyone? Then perhaps there is some satisfaction, even happiness, in that decision. That satisfaction validates things. And no actual harm is done to anything or anyone. This is probably impossible because humans are social creatures. To live alone, away from populations (even small ones), for extended periods of time can warp the mind. One loses their sense of self and their mind.
While losing your mind may sound cool to some people, it's probably a horrid experience. I say I lost my mind but whether I'm joking or not, I really can't tell sometimes and it scares me. It seems like I did lose my mind a couple of years ago and have been functioning fairly well since. However, I'm always distracted by something long enough for me to not notice or think about it.
Hmm. Validation. It's something that just sort of seems to happen after an undetermined amount of time. And under unexpected circumstances. As long as it gets there, things'll be all right. But stranger things have been known to happen, and exceptions exist, so who really knows anything anymore? Who's anyone to say anything about that or this?
What's to be done with those who are marked by emptiness? Live and let live.
Originally, I was going to write about something else but this poured out so I went with it.
But is a validated life necessarily one worth living? Depends what validates it. Something generally good and worthwhile that benefits more than just the self is a good example, no? What's an example of that? Friendship. If you don't have a friend and go through life all alone, something must be off. I don't mean to say that you should surround yourself with people all the time everywhere you go. What I mean is you should know someone you can trust and talk to on a deeper level than just "someone I make small talk with every now and then".
What if one chooses isolation/to be away from everything and everyone? Then perhaps there is some satisfaction, even happiness, in that decision. That satisfaction validates things. And no actual harm is done to anything or anyone. This is probably impossible because humans are social creatures. To live alone, away from populations (even small ones), for extended periods of time can warp the mind. One loses their sense of self and their mind.
While losing your mind may sound cool to some people, it's probably a horrid experience. I say I lost my mind but whether I'm joking or not, I really can't tell sometimes and it scares me. It seems like I did lose my mind a couple of years ago and have been functioning fairly well since. However, I'm always distracted by something long enough for me to not notice or think about it.
Hmm. Validation. It's something that just sort of seems to happen after an undetermined amount of time. And under unexpected circumstances. As long as it gets there, things'll be all right. But stranger things have been known to happen, and exceptions exist, so who really knows anything anymore? Who's anyone to say anything about that or this?
What's to be done with those who are marked by emptiness? Live and let live.
Originally, I was going to write about something else but this poured out so I went with it.
2k11 Re-rE-RE-rewind
Or: 2011 in review.
2011 has certainly been a fairly eventful year in many respects. If I were to compare myself from 2010 and now, I would be amazed (in a way) at how different I seem. Of course, this is entirely subjective and held entirely on the basis of opinion; I can never look at myself without some degree of bias (either positive or negative). Thusly, I begin to ramble (one thing that will probably never change).
2011 has seen a number of things change or stay the same.
What has changed is my outlook on a number of things. There's a greater deal of careful, calculated cynicism towards just about everything. I say it is careful and calculated because I try not to speak so much unless I know the conversation won't drown me. The cynicism part is just for alliteration; what I really mean is that while I try to remain optimistic about things to come, I owe it to myself to remain grounded in reality. I've struggled with megalomania, and it really sucks because you begin to invent these ideas and visions that are so grandiose, you just give up on actually trying to accomplish them. You let yourself be swept away into some fantastical daydream and let yourself melt away back into reality having accomplished nothing. In a sense, I'm a horse wearing flimsy blinders. They're flimsy because I still get very distracted.
I've begun to question things again. I used to question things but then I stopped being 16. Now I question them with a greater (by comparison) degree of wisdom and understanding of how the world works. Granted, I still don't know a goddamn thing but I know more than I did back when I thought saying "down with the government, anarchy forever" was a good idea and a good thought process. (What a jackass!)
I've also let myself become more and more unhinged, in the sense that I carry an attitude that can be summarized as saying "meh" to just about anything. The only thing that differentiates each "meh" is the delivery and tone behind it.
I've thrown myself into a free-fall whose chaos I seem to enjoy, in some strange way. I enjoy it because I laugh more and feel this general sense of well-being that comes when you've cast off some things that weigh you down. That free-fall might have a disastrous ending (or one that'll leave me upset and dissatisfied). Yes, that's that careful, calculated cynicism talking. Hmm. Could be worse.
Some of the things that have remained the same: my imagination, my inexplicable optimism, my "meh" attitude.
I don't think I need to write at length about the things that have remained constant and relatively unchanged.
I think I'm doing all right. Of course, thinking and being are always two different beasts. This much is certain: I still don't make much sense.
2011 has certainly been a fairly eventful year in many respects. If I were to compare myself from 2010 and now, I would be amazed (in a way) at how different I seem. Of course, this is entirely subjective and held entirely on the basis of opinion; I can never look at myself without some degree of bias (either positive or negative). Thusly, I begin to ramble (one thing that will probably never change).
2011 has seen a number of things change or stay the same.
What has changed is my outlook on a number of things. There's a greater deal of careful, calculated cynicism towards just about everything. I say it is careful and calculated because I try not to speak so much unless I know the conversation won't drown me. The cynicism part is just for alliteration; what I really mean is that while I try to remain optimistic about things to come, I owe it to myself to remain grounded in reality. I've struggled with megalomania, and it really sucks because you begin to invent these ideas and visions that are so grandiose, you just give up on actually trying to accomplish them. You let yourself be swept away into some fantastical daydream and let yourself melt away back into reality having accomplished nothing. In a sense, I'm a horse wearing flimsy blinders. They're flimsy because I still get very distracted.
I've begun to question things again. I used to question things but then I stopped being 16. Now I question them with a greater (by comparison) degree of wisdom and understanding of how the world works. Granted, I still don't know a goddamn thing but I know more than I did back when I thought saying "down with the government, anarchy forever" was a good idea and a good thought process. (What a jackass!)
I've also let myself become more and more unhinged, in the sense that I carry an attitude that can be summarized as saying "meh" to just about anything. The only thing that differentiates each "meh" is the delivery and tone behind it.
I've thrown myself into a free-fall whose chaos I seem to enjoy, in some strange way. I enjoy it because I laugh more and feel this general sense of well-being that comes when you've cast off some things that weigh you down. That free-fall might have a disastrous ending (or one that'll leave me upset and dissatisfied). Yes, that's that careful, calculated cynicism talking. Hmm. Could be worse.
Some of the things that have remained the same: my imagination, my inexplicable optimism, my "meh" attitude.
I don't think I need to write at length about the things that have remained constant and relatively unchanged.
I think I'm doing all right. Of course, thinking and being are always two different beasts. This much is certain: I still don't make much sense.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Not the Pontius Pilate Approach
If there is a problem, chances are it's all inside your head. Anyone who crosses and/or irks you is not better off dead nor does anyone deserve torture for disagreeing with you. By being themselves, they do not warrant your wrath and fury. Live and let live. That's all I can really say about that matter in particular. It's probably because over time, I've learned, or conditioned myself not to care.
I can say with a fair degree of certainty that nothing bothers me anymore unless I get very passionate about something and it goes horribly wrong. In which case, I'll be less than pleased, to put it nicely. But for the most part, nothing seems to bother me anymore. If there is a problem, I tend to shrug it off because it's all inside my head. Any beef I hold with anyone, I can resolve by solving myself first. Or, calming the fuck down before I activate the doomsday device or any other method of harming others.
That's not to say I wish harm on anyone. I don't wish harm on anyone, even those who disagree with or greatly irk me. Why? Because people are people. I'd like to live and be able to do things; therefore, I treat people the way I would like to be treated. Of course, there are those who push you into the background or just treat you like shit. In those cases, I pity them. Why? Well, I treated them the way I would like to be treated and they obviously did not reciprocate. There's not much that I can do about that so I understand that they will function as they do and will continue on their way.
For me to change them would be hypocritical. Why? Because I would be uncomfortable with someone else changing me, presumably against my wishes. I'd rather be myself, myself and nasty, not somebody else however jolly. I'm fine with helping them improve, if they so choose but I won't go out of my way to get someone to change who they are just because I find (trait A) strange. If (trait A) happens to be a self-destructive vice with no positive effect [sic], then I'd have to step in and at the very least throw out the suggestion that it would be prudent to stop (trait A). Whether that person listens or not is all on them from that point.
No, that doesn't sound like the Pontius Pilate approach.
Whenever I get the urge to make suggestions that would ultimately change things, I pause and keep it to myself unless it would actually help overall / in the long run. Other than that, I just keep things like that to myself because if there really is a problem, I'm the only one seeing it. Of course, one could interpret my generally laid-back approach to life as nonchalant, ambivalent, cruel, and all sorts of other fucked up things but that is a problem inside your head.
One could say that I don't care and that statement could be correct. Another person could say that I care too much and that too would be a correct statement.
The most correct statement is: forward. And this guy isn't making much sense... or is he?
I can say with a fair degree of certainty that nothing bothers me anymore unless I get very passionate about something and it goes horribly wrong. In which case, I'll be less than pleased, to put it nicely. But for the most part, nothing seems to bother me anymore. If there is a problem, I tend to shrug it off because it's all inside my head. Any beef I hold with anyone, I can resolve by solving myself first. Or, calming the fuck down before I activate the doomsday device or any other method of harming others.
That's not to say I wish harm on anyone. I don't wish harm on anyone, even those who disagree with or greatly irk me. Why? Because people are people. I'd like to live and be able to do things; therefore, I treat people the way I would like to be treated. Of course, there are those who push you into the background or just treat you like shit. In those cases, I pity them. Why? Well, I treated them the way I would like to be treated and they obviously did not reciprocate. There's not much that I can do about that so I understand that they will function as they do and will continue on their way.
For me to change them would be hypocritical. Why? Because I would be uncomfortable with someone else changing me, presumably against my wishes. I'd rather be myself, myself and nasty, not somebody else however jolly. I'm fine with helping them improve, if they so choose but I won't go out of my way to get someone to change who they are just because I find (trait A) strange. If (trait A) happens to be a self-destructive vice with no positive effect [sic], then I'd have to step in and at the very least throw out the suggestion that it would be prudent to stop (trait A). Whether that person listens or not is all on them from that point.
No, that doesn't sound like the Pontius Pilate approach.
Whenever I get the urge to make suggestions that would ultimately change things, I pause and keep it to myself unless it would actually help overall / in the long run. Other than that, I just keep things like that to myself because if there really is a problem, I'm the only one seeing it. Of course, one could interpret my generally laid-back approach to life as nonchalant, ambivalent, cruel, and all sorts of other fucked up things but that is a problem inside your head.
One could say that I don't care and that statement could be correct. Another person could say that I care too much and that too would be a correct statement.
The most correct statement is: forward. And this guy isn't making much sense... or is he?
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Old Bit of Writing: "Fundamental Fallacy"
This is an old bit of my writing. From 2008, I think.
The fundamental fallacy of anything is that you treat that something for what has been established rather than for what it is. Many times the established notion is outdated, inaccurate, or irrelevant, or a combination of all of them.
Once someone erases that fallacy from their minds, they'll begin to see the world clearly without the need of rose tinted glasses forcibly strapped to our eyes by ideas of the past by living dinosaurs whose idea of a good time consists of sitting in front of the radio or reading the bible. Or a variation of what was once considered fun, now considered boring.
Take life for instance. I don't mean kill. Life, as many people before you have said, is hard. That's not true. You're born, you do stuff, you die. It's just that easy. Life isn't hard, it's the people you encounter that have to ruin the smooth ride for you. They do this by doubting you, discouraging you, making disparaging statements about you, ditching you etc. Life isn't a general thing. You might think that but it isn't. You're confusing that for breathing and movement. That's like saying sea and sea are the same thing. Sea refers to the area where storms are created. Sea also refers to the ocean and all that. So you see life is breathing and all that. And life is individual and unique; just like you! Life, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. If you want to go to school and tire yourself out, that's you. If you want to smoke pot all fucking day and not do a damn thing, that's you.
People tend to thing life is hard. It's not. Just do your own damn thing. It's the damn people that mess it all up. You think you can rely on people all the time, but that's not always true. A lot of times they will let you down. They'll doubt you and bring your world down. What does one do in a situation like that? Whatever they must. That varies on the person and situation. If your friend keeps cockblocking, have a talk or pick up chicks elsewhere. If your boyfriend keeps cheating on you and you keep taking him back, you're an idiot.
Then again, the biggest obstacle you have is yourself. Only you can prevent forest fires. It's true. You do it to yourself, just you and no one else. So what can one take away from these belligerent statements? Nothing really. You shouldn't be taking advice from me anyway. If you are, I thank you but must tell you to go somewhere else to find answers because my answers suck.
The fundamental fallacy with anything is that you tend to take it too seriously. You treat something for what other people have told you it is as opposed to you treating it for what you think it is. Best bet? Wing it.
As you can see, nothing has changed. I made little sense then and I make little sense now.
The fundamental fallacy of anything is that you treat that something for what has been established rather than for what it is. Many times the established notion is outdated, inaccurate, or irrelevant, or a combination of all of them.
Once someone erases that fallacy from their minds, they'll begin to see the world clearly without the need of rose tinted glasses forcibly strapped to our eyes by ideas of the past by living dinosaurs whose idea of a good time consists of sitting in front of the radio or reading the bible. Or a variation of what was once considered fun, now considered boring.
Take life for instance. I don't mean kill. Life, as many people before you have said, is hard. That's not true. You're born, you do stuff, you die. It's just that easy. Life isn't hard, it's the people you encounter that have to ruin the smooth ride for you. They do this by doubting you, discouraging you, making disparaging statements about you, ditching you etc. Life isn't a general thing. You might think that but it isn't. You're confusing that for breathing and movement. That's like saying sea and sea are the same thing. Sea refers to the area where storms are created. Sea also refers to the ocean and all that. So you see life is breathing and all that. And life is individual and unique; just like you! Life, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. If you want to go to school and tire yourself out, that's you. If you want to smoke pot all fucking day and not do a damn thing, that's you.
People tend to thing life is hard. It's not. Just do your own damn thing. It's the damn people that mess it all up. You think you can rely on people all the time, but that's not always true. A lot of times they will let you down. They'll doubt you and bring your world down. What does one do in a situation like that? Whatever they must. That varies on the person and situation. If your friend keeps cockblocking, have a talk or pick up chicks elsewhere. If your boyfriend keeps cheating on you and you keep taking him back, you're an idiot.
Then again, the biggest obstacle you have is yourself. Only you can prevent forest fires. It's true. You do it to yourself, just you and no one else. So what can one take away from these belligerent statements? Nothing really. You shouldn't be taking advice from me anyway. If you are, I thank you but must tell you to go somewhere else to find answers because my answers suck.
The fundamental fallacy with anything is that you tend to take it too seriously. You treat something for what other people have told you it is as opposed to you treating it for what you think it is. Best bet? Wing it.
As you can see, nothing has changed. I made little sense then and I make little sense now.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
A Real Mess, II
Passion plays a double hand. It lifts. It smothers, caresses, burns, bleeds, inspires, and motivates. It also confuses the hell out of everything and everyone, makes logic vanish, and makes reason disappear.
Mary and I knew this to be true.
There was a lot of conflict in her eyes as she gazed upon the scene before us. She wanted to rip my clothes off but she also wanted to rip my head off. Somehow, it was my fault that Donald was lying on the floor, dead, bereft of life. She seemed to forget that it was her frying pan that had connected with the back of his head and brought him to the afterlife. To be fair, I bought her that frying pan. In my defense, however, it became hers once she unwrapped the packaging. Also, in my defense, I bought it so she could cook dinner, not clobber Donald.
"What are we going to do?"
I couldn't take any of more of her shrieking so I raised my hand at her before reconsidering. She was capable of murder. If she could kill Donald, she could probably kill me as well.
"Let me rearrange my mind." I said, slowly.
She seemed to take this as a cue to finally stay quiet while I thought of how to get us out of this predicament. In all honesty, I just wanted her to stay quiet so I could relax for a moment. I had already thought of a plan. Sure, it was poorly conceived and sloppily put together but it was something.
"If you ask me 'what are we going to do' one more time, I will be very angry with you." I started as I sensed her mouth start to open. It's one of those things that you just know is happening. You can't really stop it but you'll try anything to slow it down if possible. Of course, it didn't work; in fact, it backfired on me. Because she backhanded me.
"How dare you interrupt me?!" she shrieked. Yes, she did shriek a lot. "I am a woman and this is the 21st century! I will not be ignored! I will not be sent to another room while you and your bearded compatriots play billiards and drink whiskey while discussing Tammany Hall!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I scratched my head. Did she take another trip through time again? Or, more accurately, had her mind been transported through time yet again and had not fully readjusted?
"You men are all the same. Comporting yourselves with a wanton disregard for the fairer sex! I can't wait for the day we strong and powerful women take back the earth! I will not be silenced! You cannot oppress me! I will reclaim my rights that you have stolen from me!"
She made me pace quietly for a few moments because I was getting nowhere with her. She would go on like this for hours if given the chance. And Donald would still be the very least of her concerns. So, the best way to handle these things and most other problems: patiently and silently but above all carefully. I took these things into consideration as I spoke my response to her tirade:
"You can reclaim them after we get rid of Donald. How about that? And I'll even take you out for ice cream and I'll get you a bra to burn."
She looked at me, dumbfounded, and paused for a moment before squinting her eyes, tilting her head, and slowly (deliberately) saying: "Do I look like some proud woman warrior from the seventies? I would like a foot massage though."
It worked, she seemed to be in more rational state of mind. Or one more in tune with what I liked: appropriately modern with less shrieking and complaining.
"We can discuss all that stuff later. But first," I nodded over at Donald, still on the floor... dead.
"What's the plan?"
It was simple: drag him back to his apartment and place him on the floor of his kitchen to make it seem as if he died there and not been murdered (accidentally) here. A marvelous plan because it was so simple and effective. Sure, it was quickly conceived but it was logical and it took care of all the loose ends and all that nonsense that I didn't want to take care of over a long period of time.
Of course, she didn't agree and instead threatened to bash me over the head with the same frying pan she had used on Donald.
"So, that's what we're going to do? We're just going to drag him back to his apartment and place him on his kitchen floor and just leave it at that?" She was incredulous and failed to realize how brilliant and simple the plan was. "What about the witnesses? And the noise? And the autopsies?"
She had a point. I just thought of something quickly and hadn't even considered these things. Not like I cared though, I just wanted some peace again. When she saw me starting to drag Donald towards the door, she just stood there with her arms crossed. This was either a look of seduction or anger. I didn't dare leave this to chance so I just tried my best to shrug it off but the curiosity really started burning.
"Do you want to... you know?" I said, trying to wade carefully.
"We just killed a man and that's all you can think of?!"
I didn't even care that she said "we", as if I had played a big part in murdering some guy. Still, I soldiered on and continued dragging the corpse out the door until there was a knock that seemed to go on for ages. Hell, I was terrified! Negative attention at the door, a corpse in my hands, and a woman with a bloody frying pan very angry with me. What was I to do? All I wanted to do was get the corpse out, Mary calm, and enjoy the rest of my day and life. This wasn't too much to ask for. The knocking at the door did not take my dilemma into account, it continued.
Mary simply left the room, leaving me to fend for myself. She had thrown me to the wolves before so I shouldn't have been surprised but somehow, I still was. She really had thrown me to the wolves. A local zoo had opened, and it featured a wide array of very fierce and dangerous animals. Among them, wolves that had been used in illegal dogfights and as a result had been extremely difficult to handle. Mary simply pushed me over the railing and I tumbled into their den. After some stitching and time to heal, and time to learn to walk again, all was well. Except I didn't talk to her at all for a while. She absolutely hated being ignored. Her tears were a great consolation to me. This does make me sound like a jerk but you would probably feel the same if someone you trusted thrust you into a small area occupied by fierce animals.
The knocking got louder. So, I did the only thing I could: ignore it. This didn't help because in less than a minute, the door swung open and I found myself face to face with a very disgruntled Marwood.
Mary and I knew this to be true.
There was a lot of conflict in her eyes as she gazed upon the scene before us. She wanted to rip my clothes off but she also wanted to rip my head off. Somehow, it was my fault that Donald was lying on the floor, dead, bereft of life. She seemed to forget that it was her frying pan that had connected with the back of his head and brought him to the afterlife. To be fair, I bought her that frying pan. In my defense, however, it became hers once she unwrapped the packaging. Also, in my defense, I bought it so she could cook dinner, not clobber Donald.
"What are we going to do?"
I couldn't take any of more of her shrieking so I raised my hand at her before reconsidering. She was capable of murder. If she could kill Donald, she could probably kill me as well.
"Let me rearrange my mind." I said, slowly.
She seemed to take this as a cue to finally stay quiet while I thought of how to get us out of this predicament. In all honesty, I just wanted her to stay quiet so I could relax for a moment. I had already thought of a plan. Sure, it was poorly conceived and sloppily put together but it was something.
"If you ask me 'what are we going to do' one more time, I will be very angry with you." I started as I sensed her mouth start to open. It's one of those things that you just know is happening. You can't really stop it but you'll try anything to slow it down if possible. Of course, it didn't work; in fact, it backfired on me. Because she backhanded me.
"How dare you interrupt me?!" she shrieked. Yes, she did shriek a lot. "I am a woman and this is the 21st century! I will not be ignored! I will not be sent to another room while you and your bearded compatriots play billiards and drink whiskey while discussing Tammany Hall!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I scratched my head. Did she take another trip through time again? Or, more accurately, had her mind been transported through time yet again and had not fully readjusted?
"You men are all the same. Comporting yourselves with a wanton disregard for the fairer sex! I can't wait for the day we strong and powerful women take back the earth! I will not be silenced! You cannot oppress me! I will reclaim my rights that you have stolen from me!"
She made me pace quietly for a few moments because I was getting nowhere with her. She would go on like this for hours if given the chance. And Donald would still be the very least of her concerns. So, the best way to handle these things and most other problems: patiently and silently but above all carefully. I took these things into consideration as I spoke my response to her tirade:
"You can reclaim them after we get rid of Donald. How about that? And I'll even take you out for ice cream and I'll get you a bra to burn."
She looked at me, dumbfounded, and paused for a moment before squinting her eyes, tilting her head, and slowly (deliberately) saying: "Do I look like some proud woman warrior from the seventies? I would like a foot massage though."
It worked, she seemed to be in more rational state of mind. Or one more in tune with what I liked: appropriately modern with less shrieking and complaining.
"We can discuss all that stuff later. But first," I nodded over at Donald, still on the floor... dead.
"What's the plan?"
It was simple: drag him back to his apartment and place him on the floor of his kitchen to make it seem as if he died there and not been murdered (accidentally) here. A marvelous plan because it was so simple and effective. Sure, it was quickly conceived but it was logical and it took care of all the loose ends and all that nonsense that I didn't want to take care of over a long period of time.
Of course, she didn't agree and instead threatened to bash me over the head with the same frying pan she had used on Donald.
"So, that's what we're going to do? We're just going to drag him back to his apartment and place him on his kitchen floor and just leave it at that?" She was incredulous and failed to realize how brilliant and simple the plan was. "What about the witnesses? And the noise? And the autopsies?"
She had a point. I just thought of something quickly and hadn't even considered these things. Not like I cared though, I just wanted some peace again. When she saw me starting to drag Donald towards the door, she just stood there with her arms crossed. This was either a look of seduction or anger. I didn't dare leave this to chance so I just tried my best to shrug it off but the curiosity really started burning.
"Do you want to... you know?" I said, trying to wade carefully.
"We just killed a man and that's all you can think of?!"
I didn't even care that she said "we", as if I had played a big part in murdering some guy. Still, I soldiered on and continued dragging the corpse out the door until there was a knock that seemed to go on for ages. Hell, I was terrified! Negative attention at the door, a corpse in my hands, and a woman with a bloody frying pan very angry with me. What was I to do? All I wanted to do was get the corpse out, Mary calm, and enjoy the rest of my day and life. This wasn't too much to ask for. The knocking at the door did not take my dilemma into account, it continued.
Mary simply left the room, leaving me to fend for myself. She had thrown me to the wolves before so I shouldn't have been surprised but somehow, I still was. She really had thrown me to the wolves. A local zoo had opened, and it featured a wide array of very fierce and dangerous animals. Among them, wolves that had been used in illegal dogfights and as a result had been extremely difficult to handle. Mary simply pushed me over the railing and I tumbled into their den. After some stitching and time to heal, and time to learn to walk again, all was well. Except I didn't talk to her at all for a while. She absolutely hated being ignored. Her tears were a great consolation to me. This does make me sound like a jerk but you would probably feel the same if someone you trusted thrust you into a small area occupied by fierce animals.
The knocking got louder. So, I did the only thing I could: ignore it. This didn't help because in less than a minute, the door swung open and I found myself face to face with a very disgruntled Marwood.
Monday, December 19, 2011
A Sonnet Consumed by Thoughts' Wanderlust
To be ignored, denied, and tossed aside.
A numbing pain, one I know far too well.
Not to be let in but told, "Stay there: outside."
Not merciful or nice but not yet "hell"
I have an active imagination
and nothing makes sense around these parts.
There seems to be some exaggeration
which is good if you're swimming in the arts:
or writing some terrible poetry
with relaxed complex structures ev'rywhere
not rhyming at all or correctly
throwing the introduced theme to the air:
To sleep, to dream, to do nothing at all.
To fly, to wander, to break down the wall.
A numbing pain, one I know far too well.
Not to be let in but told, "Stay there: outside."
Not merciful or nice but not yet "hell"
I have an active imagination
and nothing makes sense around these parts.
There seems to be some exaggeration
which is good if you're swimming in the arts:
or writing some terrible poetry
with relaxed complex structures ev'rywhere
not rhyming at all or correctly
throwing the introduced theme to the air:
To sleep, to dream, to do nothing at all.
To fly, to wander, to break down the wall.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
You
Remember that you are the only you in this enormous, wide world. There may be some who have similar interests as you and might even "look like" you, according to some, but never forget that you are the only you. Clones don't count, they're just copies. You're the real McCoy, the real deal, the genuine article.
Don't ever let yourself be swayed in the wrong direction. Don't let yourself turn you into some thing you don't recognize and despise.
My motto (or one of them) is:
I'd rather be myself. Myself and nasty. Not somebody else however jolly.
I try to live by that as often as I can because even though I go through intense bouts of self-loathing and all that noise, I would still like to remain myself above all other things. I would not like to be that slick dude with a dope ride because I would end up sacrificing what makes me, me. Sure, someday I'll have a dope ride but by then it'll be organic (the progression, I mean).
Don't sway from your own path. Don't sway with the vile and toxic breeze. Remain yourself,
To thine own self be true.
You matter.
You.
Don't ever let yourself be swayed in the wrong direction. Don't let yourself turn you into some thing you don't recognize and despise.
My motto (or one of them) is:
I'd rather be myself. Myself and nasty. Not somebody else however jolly.
I try to live by that as often as I can because even though I go through intense bouts of self-loathing and all that noise, I would still like to remain myself above all other things. I would not like to be that slick dude with a dope ride because I would end up sacrificing what makes me, me. Sure, someday I'll have a dope ride but by then it'll be organic (the progression, I mean).
Don't sway from your own path. Don't sway with the vile and toxic breeze. Remain yourself,
To thine own self be true.
You matter.
You.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Je ne parlez pas français
Bonjour!
Bonsoir!
Bonne nuit!
Comment allez vous?
Moi?
Je ne parlez pas français
Je ne sais pas quoi je suis
Je ne parlez pas français
Tres terrible? Mais oui!
Madamoiselle, vous est belle!
Tres belle
Tres intelligent
Tres fine
Sacrée vous, ma déesse
Madamoiselle,
vous et moi?
Jour et soir?
Soleil et lune?
vous et moi?
ensemble demain et aujourd'hui?
S'il vous plaît, di oui?
Mon ami! Mon frere!
Comment allez vous?
Soup du jour?
Le baguette et croissant?
Non?
A tout al'heur?
Je ne sais pas de quoi je parle
Au revoir
Bonsoir
This is the first time I've ever written in French anything that isn't from some workbook or just the phrase "je ne parlez pas français." It's quite bad, isn't it?
Bonsoir!
Bonne nuit!
Comment allez vous?
Moi?
Je ne parlez pas français
Je ne sais pas quoi je suis
Je ne parlez pas français
Tres terrible? Mais oui!
Madamoiselle, vous est belle!
Tres belle
Tres intelligent
Tres fine
Sacrée vous, ma déesse
Madamoiselle,
vous et moi?
Jour et soir?
Soleil et lune?
vous et moi?
ensemble demain et aujourd'hui?
S'il vous plaît, di oui?
Mon ami! Mon frere!
Comment allez vous?
Soup du jour?
Le baguette et croissant?
Non?
A tout al'heur?
Je ne sais pas de quoi je parle
Au revoir
Bonsoir
This is the first time I've ever written in French anything that isn't from some workbook or just the phrase "je ne parlez pas français." It's quite bad, isn't it?
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (Robert Frost)
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost
At the End of the Day
At the end of the day, I sometimes come home very exhausted and want nothing more than to just sleep. Recently, all I've done is come home, lie down, and immediately fall asleep. Unfortunately, my day doesn't end there because I still always have things to do. As such, I have to wake up and resume the remainder of my day with eyes half-closed, yawning with every other sentence. Marvelous.
I'm procrastinating right now but I figured I should write something because it's been a while and I owe something to whoever reads this.
What am I supposed to actually be doing? I'm supposed to be finishing two assignments. 5 pages minimum each. It's not a lot, I know but I have a problem. The problem is that I get very critical of my own work and I have to start my assignments over more than once. This intense dissatisfaction with my own work will be the death of me somehow. It also causes a lot of problems in regards to getting things done in a timely manner.
How? I started these assignments about a month ago. I'm not kidding. I started them a month ago with the intention of finishing them long before this term ended but look how that turned out. Now I'm rushing and writing furiously, and revising as I write. I'll probably lose more sleep and continue working in this mode until it's time to turn them in and said morning of due date finds me weak and weary. Splendid.
Are you as critical with your own work as I am?
This explains why Bottle took so long to actually finish. Well, the last installments anyway. Don't expect A Real Mess to be concluded rather quickly either. I want to make it a good story, brief but ultimately good. Something that I can take some degree of pride in. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, I'll probably hate it too. I don't hate Bottle, I just think it's poorly written. Very poorly written.
I even procrastinated within this post. How's that for fitting?
I'm procrastinating right now but I figured I should write something because it's been a while and I owe something to whoever reads this.
What am I supposed to actually be doing? I'm supposed to be finishing two assignments. 5 pages minimum each. It's not a lot, I know but I have a problem. The problem is that I get very critical of my own work and I have to start my assignments over more than once. This intense dissatisfaction with my own work will be the death of me somehow. It also causes a lot of problems in regards to getting things done in a timely manner.
How? I started these assignments about a month ago. I'm not kidding. I started them a month ago with the intention of finishing them long before this term ended but look how that turned out. Now I'm rushing and writing furiously, and revising as I write. I'll probably lose more sleep and continue working in this mode until it's time to turn them in and said morning of due date finds me weak and weary. Splendid.
Are you as critical with your own work as I am?
This explains why Bottle took so long to actually finish. Well, the last installments anyway. Don't expect A Real Mess to be concluded rather quickly either. I want to make it a good story, brief but ultimately good. Something that I can take some degree of pride in. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, I'll probably hate it too. I don't hate Bottle, I just think it's poorly written. Very poorly written.
I even procrastinated within this post. How's that for fitting?
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