Seems like life is flying by, and not leaving time for mistakes. Good thing mistakes are just a part of life, eh?
But my point is, it isn't stopping. And that means I need to get as close as I can to the people I know, because what if I love them? Someone I say hi to all the time might be my best friend if I talked to them more. I wish I wasn't so shy and introverted, because I want to meet a lot of people and get to know them. I want to be popular, to always have someone to talk to, and to love many. I want people to know that I am there, that they can talk to me. How do I make myself known without seeming arrogant or...retarded?
Maybe people read me differently because I give off such weird signals. I can see it when I watch myself on video camera. I am a strange duck. Someone told me that, and I didn't really believe I was that different, until I tried to suppress it all. I don't know how long it would take for me to be able to do that, because it is really hard. I'm gonna need to just keep being the strangest guy I know, and take the risk of annoying some important people in order to remain myself.
It's all so hard. Social Living. I don't want to find someone the same as me, because I wouldn't be able to stand that much of myself, but I wonder if I could find someone that will be able to live with all the weirdness? Of course, I would have to be able to live with them too. It just seems hopeless. I'm really not feeling down right now, I am just looking at it all from a stepped back point of view.
Seems like every second I let pass alone is a mistake, a wasted second that I'll never have back, when I could have been learning something new about someone beautiful. They don't have to be a girl or guy (well, one or the other would be nice) I'm just feeling the need for knowing. Knowledge? Social Interaction? Yes please.
But I want to know what it's like to be normal. I'm afraid I'll never know. I know I should be myself, but I still want to know.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Calm
Silence beats down the doors as the music fades from my memory. Darkness enchants my mind, giving false hope of lonesomeness. But I am surrounded, their dark silence clogging my lungs, so that my breath grows deeper, scared, panicked. I whisper solace, but I cannot hear it. How do I know I am here when I cannot see myself? The weight of their bodies holds me flat; I cannot feel myself. Only my thoughts exist, and they are fading, becoming as lifeless as the pillow beneath them. *Drop by drop, life trickles from my eyes until, finally, I perish.
*Using slight paraphrasing from Alan Rickman's character in Perfume.
*Using slight paraphrasing from Alan Rickman's character in Perfume.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
meaning
Look at a thing.
Now look past it. Look through it.
Now look at it again.
Imagine all the possible uses of it.
Look at it.
Think about it.
Now stab it through your chest, into your heart.
Don't cry, just do it.
You have to.
Now look at the thing.
It has new meaning.
Now look past it. Look through it.
Now look at it again.
Imagine all the possible uses of it.
Look at it.
Think about it.
Now stab it through your chest, into your heart.
Don't cry, just do it.
You have to.
Now look at the thing.
It has new meaning.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
5 Cat Termites of the Metal Poo Variety.
Ha! I win, title!
The most shocking of all the varieties of cat termite are those of the metal poo varitey. It is horrifying for a loving pet owner to come home one day and find the body of their cherished house mammal lying on the lawn, blood oozing from tiny holes in their side as air seeps in slowly, bloating their body nearly as much as the gases produced inside.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Cake.
From the mouths of Cake there shall be words which flow into the ambience and lighten the mood with their poetic symbolism and flirty lyrics. Cake is the soul I never had, the soap that cleans the bad out of my ears, and the drink that gets the dirty taste of life out of my mouth. The muscular cyborg German dudes dance with sexy French Canadians. Now due to a construct in my mind that makes their falling and their flight symbolic of my entire existence, it becomes important for me to get up and see their last second curves for flight. My love shall not die for them, even with the years ahead that can change my life from one of simple learning to that of teaching, nurturing, and sacrifice. Love can only grow.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
My Thousand Words
So my friend put up this picture on MySpace, and it has a caption "that picture is worth a thousand words" aaaand so I felt the urge to write a thousand words.
November 7, 2006 9:01 PM
Well sir, if you say it is worth a thousand words, then I guess it must be. And I know you aren’t going to write a thousand words to describe a trees, because I’m pretty sure you mojies don’t know a thousand words in English. Tal vez (two words) debo decir algo en español para ustedes. Ok, this is a picture of un arbol, y tiene hojas rojas porque ya it is autumn, where the leaves change color and fall off the tree and photosynthesis is no longer performed. The tree is quite tall, and if a kitten climbed it, the firemen would have to use one of the tallest ladders to get it down, because the kitten’s owner was an old lady who is going crazy and she doesn’t realize that cats are able to climb in two directions: up and down. Anyway, once they get the ladder, they are going to have to be very careful because there is a power line right there, I think you can see it, it is near the bottom of the picture, it is metal and has wires. Pero tal vez es para teléfonos. Anyway, it could hurt someone. And nobody wants that. Luckily the tree is not very wide and heavy, so if it falls over during a storm, it probably will not destroy any houses. But if a kid was standing under it dressed in a lion suit, next to his dad who pulled down his pants to moon their neighbor, those people could be knocked over by it, though not seriously hurt. I just want you to know that the end of this sentence marks two hundred eighty-one (281) words. Back to the pic. In the bottom right corner there is the date the picture was taken. October 29, 2006. However, I happen to know that you were in VIETNAM on that date. You know what this means. I am Isaac’s daddy. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. Above the date is a black bar. Who knows what this is? No one in the world could ever know this. Lucky for you I am not in the world and therefore know exactly what it is and how it came to be and why it exists. It is the handle of a weapon known as the TRX-920 semi-automatic cooled plasma rifle, manufactured only on the sixth moon of Jupiter: Europa. It is there that these are made, due to the low temperatures on the moon's surface, but relative closeness to earth. I created them to give to humans to defend against those that wish us harm, but I have not yet created enough, as there was an accident causing all the handles to burn. That is why it is black. It used to be hot pink, to frighten aliens. I’m sure you are wondering why the TRX-920 is in your picture, so I will have to explain myself. I was following you that day in VIETNAM, when you saw the arbol de hojas rojas, and I heard you say “La de roja, me la coja” or something similar, and I thought you were trying to say that aliens were attacking, so I got out my rifle as quickly as I could, and it slipped out of my hand and into your view right as you clicked the button. I later erased your memory because no other human can know of this technology, but I didn’t realize that this evidence existed, and I am now forced to disclose my secrets to all humanity. Even those from VIETNAM. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Now, the trunk of that arbol de hojas rojas is made of a brown substance very similar to wood. In fact, it is wood. That is why it tasted like wood when I was interrogating it later in my bunker, twenty floors below sea level. The sky behind the tree is calm, like the ocean before a storm, and cloudless, like an empty cotton bag. When I peer into this picture, it stares back at me, deep into my soul, making me feel all the feelings I thought I would never feel again, such as love...jealousy...and my sense of smell. Although this picture reminds me so fondly of a love I once had, I cannot go back to that place in my mind, for it is there that I keep the explosives, and one wrong move could trigger and emotion explosion, and then the picture would get all messy. Although, if it were a real explosion inside my head, the red bits of me might just look like more hojas rojas on tal arbol. What I’m trying to say is, This picture is worth a thousand words, and every person in the world will come up with a different thousand, because no matter how much we try to be like each other, all people have a different mind, a different perception, and a different amount of insanity brewing inside. Maybe one person lost their virginity under that tree. Maybe another killed their first mouse by waiting in that tree with a sniper rifle. I could never know all the memories that tree was a part of, but I know that most people won’t look at it that way. Because it isn’t special. It isn’t taller than all the others, or majestic, or green all year long. It is just one tree, inconspicuous among others. It threatens the life of a nearby pole with wires attached. It stand up against the TRX-920. It will stand for years to come. People will come and go, and the tree will stay. Its leaves will fall off, the become green again next year. Next Halloween it will look the same as it does now. Someone will take a picture of it. Someone will climb on it. It is under the sky. It is near the TRX-920. It is above the power pole. It is a tree. One Thousand.
November 7, 2006 9:01 PM
Well sir, if you say it is worth a thousand words, then I guess it must be. And I know you aren’t going to write a thousand words to describe a trees, because I’m pretty sure you mojies don’t know a thousand words in English. Tal vez (two words) debo decir algo en español para ustedes. Ok, this is a picture of un arbol, y tiene hojas rojas porque ya it is autumn, where the leaves change color and fall off the tree and photosynthesis is no longer performed. The tree is quite tall, and if a kitten climbed it, the firemen would have to use one of the tallest ladders to get it down, because the kitten’s owner was an old lady who is going crazy and she doesn’t realize that cats are able to climb in two directions: up and down. Anyway, once they get the ladder, they are going to have to be very careful because there is a power line right there, I think you can see it, it is near the bottom of the picture, it is metal and has wires. Pero tal vez es para teléfonos. Anyway, it could hurt someone. And nobody wants that. Luckily the tree is not very wide and heavy, so if it falls over during a storm, it probably will not destroy any houses. But if a kid was standing under it dressed in a lion suit, next to his dad who pulled down his pants to moon their neighbor, those people could be knocked over by it, though not seriously hurt. I just want you to know that the end of this sentence marks two hundred eighty-one (281) words. Back to the pic. In the bottom right corner there is the date the picture was taken. October 29, 2006. However, I happen to know that you were in VIETNAM on that date. You know what this means. I am Isaac’s daddy. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. Above the date is a black bar. Who knows what this is? No one in the world could ever know this. Lucky for you I am not in the world and therefore know exactly what it is and how it came to be and why it exists. It is the handle of a weapon known as the TRX-920 semi-automatic cooled plasma rifle, manufactured only on the sixth moon of Jupiter: Europa. It is there that these are made, due to the low temperatures on the moon's surface, but relative closeness to earth. I created them to give to humans to defend against those that wish us harm, but I have not yet created enough, as there was an accident causing all the handles to burn. That is why it is black. It used to be hot pink, to frighten aliens. I’m sure you are wondering why the TRX-920 is in your picture, so I will have to explain myself. I was following you that day in VIETNAM, when you saw the arbol de hojas rojas, and I heard you say “La de roja, me la coja” or something similar, and I thought you were trying to say that aliens were attacking, so I got out my rifle as quickly as I could, and it slipped out of my hand and into your view right as you clicked the button. I later erased your memory because no other human can know of this technology, but I didn’t realize that this evidence existed, and I am now forced to disclose my secrets to all humanity. Even those from VIETNAM. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Now, the trunk of that arbol de hojas rojas is made of a brown substance very similar to wood. In fact, it is wood. That is why it tasted like wood when I was interrogating it later in my bunker, twenty floors below sea level. The sky behind the tree is calm, like the ocean before a storm, and cloudless, like an empty cotton bag. When I peer into this picture, it stares back at me, deep into my soul, making me feel all the feelings I thought I would never feel again, such as love...jealousy...and my sense of smell. Although this picture reminds me so fondly of a love I once had, I cannot go back to that place in my mind, for it is there that I keep the explosives, and one wrong move could trigger and emotion explosion, and then the picture would get all messy. Although, if it were a real explosion inside my head, the red bits of me might just look like more hojas rojas on tal arbol. What I’m trying to say is, This picture is worth a thousand words, and every person in the world will come up with a different thousand, because no matter how much we try to be like each other, all people have a different mind, a different perception, and a different amount of insanity brewing inside. Maybe one person lost their virginity under that tree. Maybe another killed their first mouse by waiting in that tree with a sniper rifle. I could never know all the memories that tree was a part of, but I know that most people won’t look at it that way. Because it isn’t special. It isn’t taller than all the others, or majestic, or green all year long. It is just one tree, inconspicuous among others. It threatens the life of a nearby pole with wires attached. It stand up against the TRX-920. It will stand for years to come. People will come and go, and the tree will stay. Its leaves will fall off, the become green again next year. Next Halloween it will look the same as it does now. Someone will take a picture of it. Someone will climb on it. It is under the sky. It is near the TRX-920. It is above the power pole. It is a tree. One Thousand.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Us all.
I am human. In all the world, if there was ever a truth, this is it. Anyone can say it, and it will be true, but will they understand the full implications of it? Will they feel the innate connection to every other human being that I now feel? This is the first time my mind has realized this bold statement, and I am glad it is there, because it makes me feel not like a lone creature in the Universe, dwindling away my life in some futile attempt at success, but like a part of something greater, an entire species shouting out at the Universe, saying "That's right, Universe, we are the best, and we are going to keep being the best, and one day we will explore all of you, and we will become all powerful and learn everything there ever was, because we will be in the ancient folds of space, ever closer to the beginning, ever closer to being masters of it all!"
It seems like this new connection should rock my foundations, but somehow I feel the same. It seems like it should bring my beliefs all to a wonderful conclusion, because my lack of belief in God would foster the thought that each person is a complete separate entity, evolved to perfection with no help from any outside forces, but it does not do that. It does not do much, except make me feel the urge to smile shyly as I walk by someone in the halls, make me think to myself about what they were just doing, and what they will be doing later, and why I haven't seen them before.
I need to appreciate everyone. Especially people I have not met, who have never done anything for me. Those are the people who are most important, because they live a life which is totally anonymous to me, full of mystery, and shrouded in fog. They are the ones I can wonder about. They give my mind meaning.
They are my imagination's playground.
It seems like this new connection should rock my foundations, but somehow I feel the same. It seems like it should bring my beliefs all to a wonderful conclusion, because my lack of belief in God would foster the thought that each person is a complete separate entity, evolved to perfection with no help from any outside forces, but it does not do that. It does not do much, except make me feel the urge to smile shyly as I walk by someone in the halls, make me think to myself about what they were just doing, and what they will be doing later, and why I haven't seen them before.
I need to appreciate everyone. Especially people I have not met, who have never done anything for me. Those are the people who are most important, because they live a life which is totally anonymous to me, full of mystery, and shrouded in fog. They are the ones I can wonder about. They give my mind meaning.
They are my imagination's playground.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
This stupid guy
My stupid roommate will one day drive me to suicide.
Today as he is folding his laundry, he asks me "The tag says it's ok to tumble dry. Do you think it's ok?"
No, Kyle, I'm pretty sure I read a news article about shirt companies that run their shirts through the incorrect labeling machine so that their customers will always ruin their shirts.
I need to leave this place.
Today as he is folding his laundry, he asks me "The tag says it's ok to tumble dry. Do you think it's ok?"
No, Kyle, I'm pretty sure I read a news article about shirt companies that run their shirts through the incorrect labeling machine so that their customers will always ruin their shirts.
I need to leave this place.
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