Seriously who are you?

I know of one person who frequents this blog. 

That said, when I see 18 views in one day, it really makes me wonder.

"Who else reads this blog?"

The way I see it there are two possibilities. 

The first is that the one person I know who frequents this blog simply refreshes the page a couple dozen times.

The second is that there are more people visiting my blog.

Who are you? 

Has there even been a not shitty New Years?

First off I would like to preface this post with the following:

Today blew.

I wanted to simply reconnect with one of my best friends who is a real life person now. But, as per usual, expectation was the towering little-girl-dream-wedding-cake to reality's stepped on twinkie.
Okay, whatever, maybe we never really connected as much as I remember. Perhaps we could both go to the cinema and enjoy a quality film! What's that you say? You want to bring one of you other friends whom I barely know? Fair enough! Though that makes me the thirdiest wheel of all! Luckily MY friend whom YOU barely know will also be attending due to my guilt-trip texting one-two punch! Now to wait for the movie...

...


...


Whats that, other friend? You don't want to go to the movie anymore? Very well then, good thing we have plans to meet up tomorrow.

I am just glad I have New Years plans. Best New Years ever, amiright? Wait, what? Spending time with your Aunt? How about yo... Oh... Working that night. OKAY THEN I guess drinking alone in the dark for the third consecutive New Years is good enough for me.

Best New Years ever... Woo... hoo....

Thank god the movie is starting. Maybe being the third wheel won't suck as much tonight!

...

OH MY GOD THIS SUCKS SO MUCH.

well. That movie was terrible. Typical crap.

At least I have plans with Other friend tomorrow. Wait, what's that, Dad? Don't want to drive me into town tomorrow? Well okay then. I guess no plans tomorrow.

Pre-Christmas Gifts.

Heres what I have received for Christmas thus far, in no particular order:

-Blazer with giant shoulder pads
-Old Spice gift box containing one (1) bottle of cologne and one (1) bottle of aftershave (For when the time comes)
-Box of 24 belgian chocolate seashells
-Glow stick shaped like a hand gun
-VHS copy of Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
-Copy of insane book "Charlie's a Broad" (Which is written so outlandishly terrible I doubt I will ever read it to the end)
-Copy of "How to Archer"
-Two (2) Packages of Japanese candy
-Borderlands 2 on steam
-A single mechanical pencil

Gifts I am speculated or confirmed to receive:

-A (presumably crappy) Portable record player
-Electric guitar distortion pedal

I enjoy eclectic collections of things.

Ow, My Feels

This is why I dont ask girls out. Because 9.99 times out of 10 they dont like me back and then they reject me and then it's awkward for everyone involved. Why is it so hard to just say yes? I mean come one. I like to think I am a nice guy, but it's kinda hard to be confident when you are in everyone's collective friend-zone. I pay attention to how I look, I try to minimize my insane behavior around girls, I am nice. What am I doing wrong?

You know what, don't answer that. I'll just get really defensive.

Oh and if you didn't get that I got rejected last night. Not a good time. It was one of those "You guys would look totally cute together" kind of things.



WHY WON'T ANYONE LOVE ME?

Where is everybody?

I didn't really imagine being home alone for this long would be so...
Lonely.
Seriously. I havent talked to another human being in at least sixteen hours. Is everyone dead but me?

...

BRB phone

...

Never mind, I think it was one of those automated telemarketer things.

*sigh*




Oh God. So alone.

Grape Juice

Like-like is what happens
When like
meets like

Like-like is what happens
when your heart
kicks your brain
in the nuts

and then makes some
awesomely stupid decisions
while the brain is busy
doubled over

Like-like is what happens
When two people watch one too many movies together
or go on one too many walks together
or spend a little too much time together

Like-like is what happens
when you leave grape juice in the cupboard
for too long
and it turns into wine.

Right in the face

I'm sorry
But your face was asking for it.
Begging for it.

I'm sorry
But I didn't know what to make
of your shocked expressions

I'm sorry
But in all honesty,
It's been a long time coming.

I'm sorry
But you just looked like
you really deserved
a kiss.

God this is so cheesy and awful please forgive me.

Envy

God why am I always so fucking jealous

It goes like this.

It's  an acidic taste in my mouth

alkaline in my blood.

The slow sluggish feeling of realizing

"Hey.

This isn't fair"


It's not knowing quite where my feet are

or where they are taking me

Not knowing quite what my hand is doing

or what it is writing.


It's the sound of music

Angry music

Dangerously loud.

to rattle the unclean thoughts

from my head.

It's every fiber of my body telling me to stand up an scream

"THAT'S BULLSHIT!

That should be me..."

That should be me.

Blast off in 10... 9... 8...

Expect frequent updates this weekend.

We started a poetry unit in my writing class. and I am home alone. Those two factors have the potential to make me very poetic.

that and I have nothing better to do.

WHY ARE YOU YELLING?

So far, it was been an interesting weekend. That is mostly how I would feel if I was well rested enough to feel much of anything at all, but right now all bets are off. Last night was a pretty good time for the most part. Today was pretty alright. I don't really know what else to say. My herpes is getting painfully enflamed. This is much worse than usual. We may have a problem.

cookie dough

Why can I not have a relationship that is at all mutual?
How come whenever I express intrest for someone it is always entirely one-sided?

hm. Maybe I will find what I am looking for at the bottom of a tub a cookie dough.

Its Alright.

So there was this dance thing last night. It was alright I guess. Could have been better.
You know that scene from [500] Days of Summer where Joseph Gordon-Levitt gets invited to Zooey Deschanel's party and there are two frames and one is labeled "Expectation" and one is labeled "Reality"?

Yeah thats kind of how it was for me.

Things I enjoy about dances:
-Having an excuse to wear a three piece suit, fedora, cane and colone.
-Flailing my arms wildly and no one caring.
-Dat ass.

Things I do not enjoy about dances:
-Terrible pop songs/terrible remixes of terrible pop songs.
-Getting hot and regretting wearing a three piece suit and a fedora.
-Not being able to hear anything afterwards.
-A general sense of loneliness and jealousy for no fucking reason whatsoever.*
-Dat ass**




*Okay there may have been some fucking reason whatsoever.
**Only applies to skanky hoes.

Consolation Prize

I wish I would win more. Win contests and draws and things. Just generally win at life. But I don't win. I'm pretty much a huge loser. No matter how good I am there is always someone better. There are always a hundred people better. I get a consolation prize that does nothing to console me.

To Clefairy (Clarify)

Shit is about to get metaphorical up in here. MIXED metaphorical. Like a metaphor stew. An unappetizing looking, but nonetheless delicious stew.

So I have herpes. Not real genital herpes, obviously, but an emotional herpes. Herpes of the heart, if you will. This is because I always have it, dormant, inside me. There is no cure, it can be painful sometimes when it flairs up, and all I can do is treat the symptoms. It's just something I guess I have to live with. 

But even then it's really more like a wild beast. what kind of beast you ask? Well I'm not really sure. Could be something boring like a bear or a wolf, or it could be something awesome like a hydra or a manticore or a giant saber-tooth moose-lion. Regardless of the beast, it is starving. Starving and chained up, because I don't really want that shit getting loose. the chain is really old and shitty though, so really it could break out whenever it wanted as long as it gets something to eat. Problem is no one really wants to feed it. Whether that is because my beastie friend is ugly or scary or intimidating, I dont really know. But it could make a really great pet if you groom it and tame it and take it for walks and feed it on a regular bases and maybe house-train it. 

So there you go. My emotional starving beast. My herpes of the heart. My metaphor stew.

Shit that was like three layers.

Now. Back to Borderlands.

Delicious.

Man I am under so much pressure now...

So I rediscovered Doodle or Die yesterday. I have been having a lot of fun with it. Sometimes I am a huge genius but usually I am pretty lame.

See? This is why I never update. Because my life is boring as shit!

So anyway. I'm starting a band. Pricey Mike and the Midnight Huevos. Its no big deal. Tell your friends. We're gonna be pretty big. God I'm boring. Whatever, I just gotta grind through it. somewhere in my brain there is a beautiful nugget of wonderment and I just need to shovel through all the blah.

Man, My symbolic metaphorical herpes are flaring up like crazy lately. I should see a doctor about this...

Little Ghost

Swiftly, I move.
Gliding and weaving through crowds.
Out of the corners of eyes, I am seen.
A ghostly figure from the background of a vague memory.
I am unknown
unseen
unnoticed.
I am an accessory
with emphasis on the "sorry"
I am the dust on your TV screen.
I am an extra in life's devine tragedy.
I am the background music in elevators and grocery stores.
I am the one who coughs in quite exam rooms.
I do not live or love or laugh.
I am only noticed when I am gone.
I am everyone's little ghost.

Killer Kettle

I don't really remember a lot about us.

I don't really remember a lot about our weird mutated pseudo-love.

I don't really remember much except what your skin feels like when we used to lay together.

I remember the sound of your voice mocking "My Neighbour Totoro".

I remember the smell of your bedsheets.

I remember the taste of your lips the first time I kissed you, drunk on exhaustion.

I remember the weird grape-crush smell of your hair when you coloured it red with temporary dye.

I remember holding you in your kitchen as we waited for a banana flambe to be ready.


I remember when you told me you cheated on me.

You wanted me to be angry, but I wasn't.

Because you didn't cheat.

Because we were never together.

You made quite sure of that.

You made sure that you never kissed me in public.

Or held my hand.

Or grinned at me over a shared Iced-Chai.

You made sure everything whatever we had was always behind tightly shut doors.


At least,

that's how I remember it.

This is wrong.

I really shouldn't feel this way about you.
You are just generally an awful person.
Not to mention my best friend has a thing for you.
but you are attractive and easy to talk to
and that tends to be a deadly combination.

Never Mind Then

That moment when you are about to post something deeply personal and emotional until you realize that would be a very very bad idea.

Hello?

Can anyone even see me? Is that why everyone is keeping distance? Because I am just flickering in and out of existence like a dying flame? Or is it because I only exist for kicks. People only come looking for something fun. and that's all I am. Something fun. It's cool I guess. I never really liked people anyway. If I see one on my way to my daily refuge I'll be sure to smile and wave I'm sure they wont follow me. why would they want to? It's just a stupid river. Made less interesting with the addition of myself. If I see someone there I will be sure to maybe say a few words. Maybe a few more if they seem like they want to talk. If not I'll keep my distance. Sit and reflect on the other side of the island. Find a sharp enough rock. I guess there is a certain pride to being a loner, if that's really what I must become. Some sort of maturity, mystery. Like I have no need for the squabbles of people. But I am not mysterious, evidently you can see right through me. I am not mature, I am a petty child. And I do have need for the squabbles of people. I really really do. I want more than just squabbles. But whatever. I'll just recluse. In a few years I'll live in the city. farther away from people as I have ever been. Living in the same place as someone is not the same thing as living with them let alone loving with them. Well goodbye everyone. or should I say anyone Who is still listening.

I warned you about those stairs, bro.

This keeps happening.
I get so close.
but then...
NOPE. No contentedness for you.
have fun being lonely, sucker.
Am I really that repulsive that the thought of me being interested makes people lose intrest?
how the fuck does that work?

I am surrounded by fuck.

It spreads like fucking herpes around here and I am sick of it. All anybody seems to do around here is sit around feeling sorry for themselves and slitting their fucking wrists. How the fuck am I supposed to be an optimist in these conditions? Conditions that erode the most insufferable of optimists? I spend my day practically swimming in self-pity and worry that seems to seep from the pours of my peers like thick fucking tar. I can't deal with these people. I can't live comfortably around these people. I can't like these people.

Maybe this is why I have hardly any form of a social life. Because everyone else is too busy not getting out of bed or attempting fucking suicide. I have shed my fair share of blood from my own hand but living among this misery is getting exhausting.

Everyone should just get some fucking help.

That is if all the therapists in this town aren't already fucking suicidal. 

I miss you more than I should.

Are you actually here or is this just a dream?

this is stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid. what am I supposed to write about? There are so many things to write about but I can't think of any. and to think I had to put pants on for this.
"Do a blog post!" they said "It'll be fun!" they said. Well look at me now!
Disgruntled inner monologue is disgruntled.
Sure I have things I wanna blog about. But they are things that no person should blog about. except other people because I wanna read that shit.

I have no idea what I am talking about.

Ambiguous, you say? Then ambiguous I shall be!

I want things to start happening. I want to eat easter eggs and watch movies and not be stupid and lonely. and stupid.

Hey things.

Start happening.
Like right now.

To reiterate: I still have no idea what I am talking about.

I wanna see if I can go 24 hours without leaving my room for any reason.
But I have no self control. I would leave to get nachos or tea or something.

I wonder if I could spend an entire day sleeping. I would try if that didn't mean risking losing valuable human interaction with certain significant people.

God I'm stupid.

I should write a song.
Wait, never mind, I just remembered that I have no song writing or lyrical talent whatsoever.

I need company like now. Specific company.

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

Spring Break is so boring when you have no friends or anything to do!
I would go for a walk, but I hate nature. I went for a walk the other day, slipped several times on a muddy hillside and concluded that nature is a dick. YOU HEAR ME NATURE? YOU ARE A DICK. ESPECIALLY WINTER.

Winter is like Nature's PMS.
Spring is like Nature on some kind of unstable narcotic.
Summer is like Nature when it doesn't feel like being a dick, and instead repents for it's misdeeds by being way too kind.
Autumn is like Nature when it feels a mood swing coming on.

I suck at analogies.

But there is a good point in this one quote I read a while ago: "If nature is so great, why has mankind spent so long trying to avoid it?"... or something like that.

spring break should end so stuff starts happening.

Blah.

Happy now?

JENNY DON'T READ THIS

Jenny. Hey Jenny. Stop reading this. I know you are reading this. Stop it. You are making me sad inside. Stop reading this please.

You've laid down one brick. Please don't let it be your last.

Oh my...

Things I hate about myself. (Pt 1 of 7842)

1. I am physically repulsive
2. I am an attention seeker.
3. I am pretty much the most annoying person I know.
4. I am self-defeating.
5. I am lazy.
6. I have no motivation
7. I lack confidence.
8. I am unintelligent.
9. I have the personality of a piece of emo styrofoam.
10. I am socially inept.
11. I am mentally weak.
12. I am physically weak.
13. I get depressed in social situations
14. I base my self worth on other people's opinion of me (Spoiler alert: I have no self worth)
15. I seek sympathy.
16. I am constantly fishing for compliments.
17. I am a whiny bitch.

You are a really awesome rock.

You are a really interestingly shaped rock

In a field of really boring rocks.

And who says a rock can't be beautiful.

I mean.

Look at you.

You are a beautiful rock.

Every other rock is the same.

Sometimes they are smooth 

sometimes they are rough

But there are only a few different kinds of rocks.

As a result, most of the rocks are the same. 

and therefore 

really

really

boring.

Even the rubies

and the sapphires 

and the emeralds 

start to get boring after a while.

because everyone loves them 

and everyone says they are beautiful.

frankly,

they are kind of overrated.

But you don't fit into either 

of the latter categories.

If I where a geologist you would intrest me greatly.

hah.

Who am I kidding. 

you intrest me greatly already.

You are not like all the other rocks
You have cracks
and flaws
and spots
But you are still

the most beautiful rock

in a field of really boring rocks.

and in a field of quite beautiful rocks, for that matter.

so that must count for something.

Video is unrelated.

Friends or Whatever.

I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you.I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you.

A Secret

I fancy myself an honest man, despite my little secrets and white lies. But there is one thing only two people know. One unintentionally. I ache to ponder what you would do or think if you found out. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, least of all you. I hope the marks dont give it away.

A Secret

I fancy myself an honest man, despite my little secrets and white lies. But there is one thing only two people know. One unintentionally. I ache to ponder what you would do or think if you found out. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, least of all you. I hope the marks dont give it away.

In Limbo

Do you ever have those moments where you realize you have just been staring at the wall for the past five minutes and you think "What the fuck am I doing?" That has been happening far too often lately.

I don't know what to think. I am emotionally tired. I am confused. But in only a matter of minutes nothing will matter and I will feel like I have everything sorted out and I can do anything I want. I will feel like I am loved and popular, but right now I know that's not true. Conditioning is a bitch. No one can flatter me because I know none of it is true. I am starting to think everyone who ever cared about me is just not giving a shit about me any more. I feel so empty.

Please come and help me build my humble abode.

My Vacant Lot

I once had a vacant lot. It had a decent view, but other than that it was pretty plane. Kind of boring. It needed something. Then I decided that we would build a house there. My plans where wild and extravagant. A marble and gold mansion with royal red carpets, ice sculptures, a pool out back, a fountain in the center of a beautiful garden. A palace that would put the Taj Mahal to shame. We began construction on this magnificent abode, following my plans perfectly, but when I was putting on my finishing touches something odd happened. They stopped building. The had just turned away and walked off, distracted by other tasks. I still needed help, I couldn't maintain this place by myself. I wondered why they would just quit like that. I needed to know, so I questioned them. They responded with a wreaking ball. The meticulously carved granite sculptures turned to dust. 30" tall stain glass windows shattered and fell to the ground. The water in the fountain became dirty and murky. The palace was destroyed. I put my tearful eyes upon the ruins of my our once magnificent home. I turned to them and asked them why they would do such a thing. They shrugged. They just didn't feel like working on it anymore. I have been clearing my vacant lot since then, without their help. Every now and again I will look at the scarred land and think about the glorious monument that had once been erected. There isn't much rubble left, a few gargoyles' heads, a few dead flowers and weeds. But the grass doesn't grow there anymore, and the remains of the fountain still spray the occasional spurt of thick, muddy water. I hope for someone to come and rebuild a home with me. Perhaps they will return and make amends. Regardless, I will start with something much more humble.

Winter.

Winter, why do you have to go any be such a bastard? You are ripping everyone I know to shreds. I can't remember seeing another happy person in the valley since you arrived. Seriously, Winter, you have outstayed your welcome. You didn't even give us any good snow days until it's almost time for you to leave. You are really good at sucking the happiness out of everything, aren't you, Winter. You just wander in here like you're so fucking cool but you know what, Winter? You just be a bitch. A little bitch who puts people down and neglects them and then no one is happy. People say they like you but only when you are not around. The you show up and everyone realizes how shitty you are. You have just got everyone feeling sorry for themselves. Do you like that, Winter? you sick son of a bitch. I am supposed to be the only cynical pessimist full of self hatred and bitterness, that's just my thing. But you just have to go and take that away from me by making everyone cynical pessimists full of self-hatred and bitterness. You are only good until New Years because then we have something to look forward to. After that you are just two long cold dark lonely months. Well, Winter, it's time for you to pack your bags and fuck off. You really mess with teens' hormones and I really want my friends back.

Thinking kind of sucks.

Well... not always. Not in small doses. Not if all you think about is stupid, trivial things like what I should write in my empty little corner of the internet. But if you think about big things it really starts to bum you out. Thinking about one big thing leads to thinking about other big things, and eventually your little brain is so full of big thoughts that you can't sort through them anymore. You can't dig thought the pile of heavy emotions and philosophies to get to the softer, lighter thoughts of life. Thinking about love and life and religion is just a recipe for long sleepless nights. One day you will look into your mind and see nothing but a monolithic wall of paradoxes and quantum physics and parallel universes and you will feel nothing but hopeless emptiness. You need to let those thoughts free. You need to let someone else appreciate their weight. Without someone like that, I am lonely. I am empty. Let me think with you.

...What now?

Isn't it funny that my social life gets infinitely more bland once I actually have something productive to do? I have stopped frequently talking to you, as you may have noticed. Because I am totally not interested anymore. Anyway, Juliet MK II, how are you? I am talking to YOU more often now. Although I am not sure what to do with Juliet MK II.5. I guess I will just hide in a corner till both of you go obsolete.

I insist that the genera of music called "Electro swing" be referred to from this point on as "Steampunk" because if Steampunk was music, electro-swing is what it would sound like.

I think I have broken my new years resolution already. "Don't trust people who make me happy" seemed reasonable and totally not impossible at the time. If I am lucky I will still have my shields down and my blast doors closed if for whatever reason the fecal matter strikes the quickly rotating flaps designed to provide air circulation, as to protect myself from the inevitable emotional fecal tornado.

Furthermore: kumquat.

That is all.

The Breakfast Club - How does one become a Janitor?

I am the janitor in "The Breakfast Club"

Life is a movie. well it helps me cope if I think of it that way. But I am starting to think that this movie is not about me, nor am I significant to the the plot in any way. I am there as an extra in everyone else's movie. Maybe they have to talk to me to progress their own plot. There is no movie about me. I can trick myself with pretty cinematography and a catchy soundtrack but my life isn't interesting or dramatic enough for me to get a movie. I am not even interesting enough to be featured in other people's movies. I probably don't even get my name dropped very often. I am the janitor in the breakfast club. Maybe I will drop by and make a witty comment and provide some comic relief but thats all. I am unneeded. I am unwanted.

For the record, The Breakfast Club is definitely one of my top five movies of all time. Rest in peace, John Hughes, you amazing son of a bitch.

So here we are, I guess.

2012...

My life philosophy is right again. "I don't know what to expect, but I will probably be disappointed."

Needless to say, 2012 is not very special so far. I didn't have any epiphanies, no one confessed their secret love for me, and all I did was sit in front of my computer, half drunk off screwdrivers and badly mixed martinis, watching video game reviews and debating what to say to her. What to say to fair Juliet. although I assume the first month or so will mainly consist of me finding a new "Juliet" on a weekly basis. Well this is your lucky week.

Anyway, Martinis are way too dry to NOT dilute with copious amounts of tonic water and lime juice. And for the record, I greatly dislike Mint Chocolate Baileys, and mixing it with egg nog is not nearly delicious as it sounds.