Concession

And maybe I'm just wrong on all accounts. I'm so reactionary these days.

Passing the time

I slept a bit longer than I thought I would, which is good. I probably would have slept a full cycle, or maybe even all night if my roommate and his dog hadn't gotten into a loud fight. I tried to get back to sleep, but, even though I feel tired, it was no good. Oh well.

Strongbad always cheers me up.

I feel very trapped and cornered right now. I feel a bit of anxiety at my immobility. It's on a molecular level, maybe atomic, like the electrons in my body are protesting their orbits. I wish I were like water, and could flow into any shape I desired, but, I'm stuck in this human form. Stuck in this human world. The only thing that makes it survivable are the handful of other stuck humans that I identify with.

Ever curious though, I wonder what could make one stuck human try to vanish from another when they seemed to have such a great connection. Fear, I suppose, is a great motivator. That or stuck humans are more disgusting than even I thought they were. We can be such a despicable species. I'm my own best example.

I spent a solid year, a little closer to 380 days, actually, with my head buried so I wouldn't have to look at the microcosm I had created around me. A year hiding from myself. When I finally pulled my head out of the dirt, the world was much more beautiful than I remembered. I had managed to forget why I shut myself away from reality. I had managed to find some pathetic means of coping.

I've since made some decisions, which is very uncharacteristic of me.

I just hope that I'll have uncharacteristic courage and be able to face the results of my decisions.

I would welcome death, but, I have too much guilt to deal with as is, so the terrorist nazi transvestite eskimos will have to wait to kill me at least until I get everything else situated, fixed, or at least examined.

In the past few weeks, about 5 people have told me I need to quit beating myself up. I'm trying, I really am. I just don't know if I want to live in a world where I'm not the bad guy. I've hated myself for so long, how can I just throw down my whipping rod and raise the white flag and forgive the only enemy I've ever had? I'm more than a little skeptical of that bastard whenever he whispers to me about peace.

I just don't know.

Getting through the day

Holy cow I made it. Today was... it was a day. But, I made it through only falling asleep on my feet once, and without breaking down into tears or wretching my guts out. That actually sounds like a pretty weak accomplishment, but, I'm proud. I'm going to go for a well deserved sleep, which, if this week is like last week will be 30-60 minutes of sleep, then I'll be up till 5-7 am tomorrow and get up for work at 7:45.

Complaining

It's my lunch break. I still have to work for 4 more hours when I get back. I want to go to sleep. It's not faaaaaaaiiiiir!

Expression II

I want to scream, I've got all this pent up frustration that needs a release, but, people are still sleeping, so, no screaming. Not yet anyway.

I happen to be listening to a great song. Radiohead 'There There'. The lyrics and rhythm and timing and harmony and... well, the whole song just feels kind of appropriate to me right now.

Expression

I don't want to write. I don't feel words right now. I don't want to draw, I've never been able to translate my thoughts into lines. I want to shoot photos. But it's almost 3 am. I should bundle up and head out into the cold with my camera, but, I've done so little low-light shooting I'm not sure it'd be worthwhile. I want a digital camera so I don't have to drive around and wait for someone else to mess with my negatives to find out if any of the shots I took got what I wanted them to. Hooray, this is a short week at work, because I'm going to Virginia on Friday. Right now I can barely remember why. It almost seems like this trip has gone from pursuing a question to fufilling an obligation. That's fucked up, and, I'm an ass. I need to create something before I start destroying things.

Self Identification II

On Saturday I was hanging out with my parents. They are the definition of cool old people. Well, aging, they're not old yet. They both have a knack for having open minds and knowing what needs to be said, so, they wind up being my counselors more often than either probably realizes. For those of you who haven't met my parents, I could spend pages and pages trying to describe them to you, which I'm not going to do. Sorry.

So, anyway, Saturday night. My folks and I were lounging around their den(which is much more comfortable now that it's brown and earthy colors instead of pink) drinking various liquors. Our conversation meandered across diverse topics, as they always do, ranging from theology and morality to political events, from music history to ways to make toast taste better. In an at least half-drunken whimsy, I mused out loud that I was disgusted by the level of racism still prevalent in society, and wondered how it could perpetuate itself continually. Towards the end of my mini-rant, I exasperated, "I don't feel white, how could I hold it against someone that they weren't white?"

My father grinned slightly like this was a topic of discussion he had known would come some day, but, it was my mother who spoke up.

"That's because you aren't white." She caught me off guard, since I was looking at Dad, "At least, you don't have a white heritage. I was always jealous of my friends who were Italian, or Polish, or German when I was growing up. It always seemed like they had such a place, a home they belonged to. I never had that."

"I don't feel jealous as much as disgusted." I turned around to face her, "I think it's wrong to maintain little circles designed to keep other people out."

"Maybe it's some kind of evolutionary protective mechanism." Mom grinned and finished off her white russian.

"Well, maybe it's just the way you guys raised us(my sister and me) listening to Mo-town and jazz and blues, and feeding us enchiladas and nachos every chance you had. I feel American, and, I think that's better than being white." I somehow got out around a fresh mouthful of triscut crackers and rum.

"It's good to know we did something right."



All conversations subject to artistic license associated with alcohol consumption

Coping with sleep disorders

So, after this weekend, I'm led to believe that I'm not going through real insomnia these last days, but, something else I've experienced before, where my body switches into nocturnal mode. Two days in a row now I've slept at least 8 hours, just, from the mid morning to mid or late afternoon. Obnoxious. Work is going to be rough, like every Monday.

Miami Ink's been playing in the background for at least the last two hours, and my roommate just made a comment that got me to chuckle.

"Tattoo artists are the bartenders of the art world." -Dave

Yes, yes they are. I didn't like being a bartender, maybe that's why I've never had any desire to be a tattoo artist? Well, maybe that's a part of the reason. ^ ^

Self Identification

My friend Heather had some fun stuff linked on her page today, what with it being the Lunar New Year and all. Chinese Zodiac always makes me grin. This one was alot closer on the close things than any I can remember reading before. Here's some excripts from Sheep, why don't they ever call it Ram? :( Anyways, some of the ones that made me laugh:

Sheep like to set their own hours and will not tolerate too much discipline.
Sheep need somebody to discipline them, though, in order to utilize their talents. They usually find someone to look after and care for them.

Good fortune smiles upon the sheep. They benefit from wills and inheritances. Even in the roughest of times, the Sheep always acquire the basic needs. Sheep get their own way without force or violence. They have that passive endurance that drives you mad. Eventually they wear you down with their pleas.You just can't break them!

Sheep overspend and should avoid dealing with money. They find it hard to be practical and would love a life of luxury and ease. Ugly things will depress Sheep. They hate to displease anyone especially their loved ones. They will edge around an issue rather than take a firm stand. Difficulties are a delicate issue with Sheep. They are too sensitive and often overreact. Reassure them often.

Romance is a part of the Sheep's being. Moonlight and roses, soft music and candlelight will get them every time. They tend to view the world through rose-colored glasses. Sheep do not usually have to work hard. Good things just happen naturally. They need bright, airy surroundings and excel in creative fields. Appreciation of their talents make Sheep glow, and with encouragement, they can go far in life

Hehe, not me at all... yeah right. ^ ^ What that sight has to say about Virgos didn't feel very close to me at all, except the first line and the favorite colors. What a shame, of course, I'd be more than a little freaked out of astrology was anything more than entertainment. :) I don't believe in fate or predestination or destiny, at least, not in the traditional senses. I like believing in free will and whatnot.

Memory usage

There was something extremely relevant and poignant that I was going to post this afternoon, but, before I did, my parents showed up and asked me if I wanted to go out for a movie and dinner, so, whatever I had to say, I have now totally forgotten. I offer you a public service announcement instead. Sorry. ^ ^

PSA:
Drugs are bad, obey the burrito

Writing verse

Right. One of my rules, don't write verse that's intended to convey an intense emotion when you're still in the moment causing the emotion. I had slacked off on this rule, and, tonight am getting a keen lesson on why I decided to make that a rule in the first place. If I had to guess, I'd say about 6000 words made it to the screen, thankfully I was writing directly to text rather than on paper, I would've easily wasted a tree with incoherent ramblings, incomplete thoughts, a couple pages of just one word written over and over again.

It also doesn't help that my body is exhausted but my mind isn't ready to retire just yet. Right now my peripheral vision is full of little twinkling and light bursts, my optic nerves siding with the rest of my body in the rising mutiny for sleep. So, I'm going to go lay down. I'll likely be up in a few minutes, but I should at least try.

Putting things down

Why is it that some times, the harder you try to get out of a rut, the deeper you mire yourself?

The more you try to move forward, you find yourself looking back?

The tighter you try to hold something, the faster it fades away?

Why the fuck do I move in these reciprocal cycles of denial? It's so negative. Sometimes I really wonder how I can be so cruel, especially to myself. There's a bit of self-pity. Make a mental note, you won't catch me being sorry for myself very frequently.
This is not the sensation I am looking for. I do not find any pleasure in this. Is it possible that I'm being honest to myself? Can my reality be this fucked up that contradictory events can exist in my realm simultaneously?

I don't even know where I am right now. I'm lost, drifting without a rudder.

It's times like these I really despise myself. I'm gonna go try to get some sleep.

Hygiene

It's been time for a long time. But now, I have irrefutable proof that it is now past time to buy new barbells for my nipples. They switch the standard for threading on body piercing jewelry a few months after I had my piercings done. What does this mean? Well, it means that new standard balls won't sit properly on my old standard barbells, and, no matter how hard you try, how frequently you remember to tighten your jewelry, it is inevitable that you will loose a ball. I've been without a ball on the right side for... I dunno... Months now. Aside from the first time I noticed it was ball-less, it hasn't been an issue, so, I've been lazy and haven't gotten new barbells.

That all changed yesterday.

It was a routine shower. I was mostly done scrapping the layers of dust and sawdust from work off my body, when I noticed my nipple didn't provide a bit of resistance to my wash cloth as it passed over. A quick glance revealed my fear to be reality. MY BARBELL WAS GONE! Nooooooo!

So, fighting off panic(which I'm pretty good at), I quickly turned my attention to the plug hole, mental images of watching the threaded end of my barbell vanishing through the small grate in the bottom of the bathtub. My visual inspection was failing to notice anything in the water aside from soap bubbles, when I felt something cold slide against my stomach and heard a sharp click as my barbell hit the tub floor. It had been stuck through my wash cloth! Now it was a race as the stainless steel shaft tumbled chaotically towards the plug hole, and I tried to not slip and bust my skull open on something while moving to intercept it. Dramatically water sprayed about, and in slow motion, my hand crossed the distance before the piece of metal. Like a snake striking a helpless mouse, I snatched what was mine from the bottom of the basin, and bellowed triumphantly as I held my prize to the heavens for the gods themselves to see!

Ok, so, I bent over and picked it up, but, I woulda been pissed if it had gone down the drain. :P So, next week, haircut, camera, mineral tubes for my nipples.

O.C.D.

I'm just not cut out for O.C.D., no matter how fun I think it could be. I get bored to easily, and don't have the motivation to keep up something meaningless. I shouldn't complain, I suppose, idlest I don't have to worry about going insane when the empty sugar packets are spread around the table, instead of rolled up nicely into the empty creamer cups(Poor, poor Paul). I wish I had some links or pictures to accompany that statement, so, I suppose I'll have to write out a short history.

My friend Paul, who I met back in the days of spending endless hours at IHOP with about 50-odd other kids around my age from all over town, used to always roll up any empty sugar packets and stuff them into an empty creamer cup, and then stack any other empty creamer cups under the one with the little paper rolls sticking out of it. After about a year, I finally realized that he was doing it intentionally. So, the next time he got up to relieve himself(usually around cup 6 or 7, so, many empty packets and cups were assembled), I separated the components of his project and scattered them around the table. Without blinking, he resumed conversation, and, retrieved every piece littering the table and reassembled the monument to mental health.

Of course, this led to more experimenting, and, after about the third time, Paul realized that I was undoing all his compulsory construction, and began saying "You fucker." as part of his routine.

That was about 7 years ago, and I still think this is about the greatest 'coffee sport' I've found to date. ^ ^

Time fluxuations

My mind's having trouble finding a reliable way to percieve time today. Seemingly without cause seconds barely drag by, then in the blink of an eye an hour has passed. I feel more level at least. I walked around the warehouse at the end of work today and took some shots with my phone-camera just to practice framing and all those techniques I haven't used in too long. I just ate a bad-ass rueben from Choice City Deli. It's the only real butchershop I know of in town, and their sandwiches beat the crap out of subway.

I still can't sleep

Is this gonna just continue until the weekend after next? I hope not. I dislike sleep, but, I still need it. Though, I didn't try to go to bed earlier tonight, so, hopefully I'll be able to rack out soon and get some meaningful sleep.

I still feel weird. Too weird to be comfortable. Too much like something is missing, or maybe present but just not functioning. The nights recently have been hard. Very unbalanced, neurotic, paranoid, disconnected... I think maybe I'm in a depressed slump, but, not like one I've ever felt before. During the afternoon and early evening I'm ok, but, it seems like the rest of the time I'm only partially in my body. Maybe that explains this recent blood fetish I haven't been able to shake. It's very weird, I don't want to die, quite the opposite, actually. But, I want to see proof that I'm alive. Feel pain to know my body is real. Is this what masochists feel? It's scary, but, I like it. And, hell, as long as I'm not huddled in the bathroom stabbing myself with a fork, it's not that bad, right? Everyone has little dark desires, just most people aren't conceited enough to talk about them.

I need to sleep, times just whipping by, which is weird because I'm not doing anything. : /

What's in a name?

Well, a lot of things. I changed the name of the blog to demonstrate a new, more affirmative posture. Well, more neutral at least, not self-deprecating. The new name hopefully exemplifies my commitment to trying my hand at more aspects of life than just being a jackass. ;)

I've been in an uncomfortable state all day, barely feeling like anything is real, like I'm stuck in somebody else's boring dream world. And for the first time in my life I had a fantasy about cutting and/or stabbing myself. The idea still kinda excites me in ways that make a quiet part of my subconscious start getting ready to intervene on behalf of my body's well being. I think it's definitely time to go get pierced again. I've been toying with the idea of getting horizontal bars put through my nipples ever since I had the vertical ones done. I'm kinda liking that idea more each time I think about it, since I have no desire to have more... sensitive parts of my body pierced, nor am I interested in puncturing my ears or face, and I think surface piercings are just gross. Maybe I'll go down to the shop and get run through the day I get back from Virginia...

Maybe I want to get injured to prove that I exist, I dunno, that's about the best diagnosis I've been able to come up with today. That or I'm just going to places I've never allowed my mind to stray before. If that's the case I'm sure my life's only going to get more weird before I figure things out.

Trying to teach myself things

I don't think the wee hours of the day are the best time to try to teach yourself something. I was gonna get my web developement back up to snuff so I could atleast make this more interesting to look at, but, I got distracted making graphics. I'm trying not to turn into an animate gif junkie, but, they're so fun to slap together. I almost launched into making a billion buttons and other graphics for this site, but, I managed to hold off remembering that graphical needs in a divided layer layout are way different than in a traditional html table and frame package. So, now, off to rip apart every interesting website I can find trying to absorb how these new* codes work. Hopefully I won't run into any cgi/perl. -twitch-

A cup of tea, lots of music, and theraputic graphic editing have me feeling a little better. Well, distracted, atleast. Off I go before I start to think again.

Moving is painful

If I missed a link you think I should have, reply, email me, IM me, call me, whatever. I have a hard enough time thinking when I'm not trying to swap sites.

Otherwise, it looks like I won't be able to sleep right tonight again. Every time I lay down my mind gets to work and I start to feel paranoid and afraid. Unsettling, so, I'm sitting in front of the computer, again. Can't get on to WoW to get distracted, it's the middle of the night, all my friends here are asleep, all my friends on the other side of this little rock are at work.

Why does it seem like I'm trying to prevent myself from being happy?

Don't I deserve to be happy?

I've never identified with 'normal' people, but, right now I feel so... anti-normal. Unhealthy, unable to function in a way anywhere close to decently.

For now I'm going to just turn up my music loud enough to drown out my thoughts.

Moved

Ok, so, I'm breaking away from the livejournal crappiness almost as soon as I got back into it. See the title. Now shut up. Here you'll be able to harrass me to the full extent I deserve with or without a registered account.

Hooray anonymity!

I'll be settling in shortly, until then, dance!