coin toss

I like how pathetic I am sometimes.

So there was this very important decision I had to make, and what better way than to leave it up to the flip of a coin?

But, as soon as I flipped the coin, I already knew:
a.) I already had the decision made.
b.) The only reason I was doing the coin toss, was so that maybe, fate could back me up on my decision, and I will say, "hey, I made the right choice!"
c.) But even if it was tails instead of heads, I'd redo it. Say it's a warm-up. Go until it landed on heads, and act as if fate backed me up from the first square.

public bathroom

For some reason, I do not like looking at myself in public bathrooms.

I don't know whether I'm embarrassed, self-conscious, odd... I just don't like to do it. Usually it's when people are around, but I think I don't like doing it when I'm by my lonesome, either.

(I don't know if this is good or bad)

a towering grave

A girl of mid-twenties, perhaps, sitting in a graveyard on a stone bench, looking up at a towering grave. She is remembering being with him here, years ago, pointing together at the towering grave and mocking death. Now a small headstone with his name on it lies next to the towering grave, and it is small and meek in comparison; it is defeated; it is whimpering. The girl of mid-twenties, she attempts to get up and walk away, to cover up her ears to the whimpers, but she is stuck, watching the towering grave and the headstone with his name on it, through tears that burn.

Hi, hello, I guess

Do you ever get so fucking mentally sick that you just sneer at anything you look at and you hate everything and you want to destroy things but you hold back, but holding back is just so goddam difficult, and when you try to close your eyes and take deep breaths, that sneer is back the second you open them again, and you have to lock yourself in your room because you are just so fucking sick and tired of everything?

Yeah...

But oh, and did you think this was about me? Oh, haw haw, nonono, far from the truth, this is about my friend, uh, Steve.

That kid's a fucking psycho.

between the clerk and I

When people at stores say "have a nice day," or something of that sort, it always makes me feel bad.

I tend to look at it as a genuine remark, and I usually say "you too" all merrily. And I envision a connection of general well-being between the clerk and I.

But then I realize that it is their job. It is their job to be polite, and that is the reason they are doing it; I am no more than a customer to say a dubious "have a nice day" to.

And then I see that there is absolutely no connection of general well-being

between the clerk and I.

shrinkage

Do you think old people, when someone buys them a t-shirt that is way too small for them, say, "maybe I'll shrink into it"?

(As opposed to young people saying "maybe I'll grow into it," of course..)


Well do you?











Uhhh, what was I saying?

peanuts and grapes

I firmly stand by this notion:

eating one very, very, very bad grape
or peanut
will taint your love
for grapes
or peanuts
forever.

When you eat these things you go in it with a certain knowledge that if you come across a very, very, very bad one, the potential harm is devastating and irrevocable.

But it's a risk you have to take.

Today in baseball, after we shook hands, I briefly talked to a person I know on the other team. I don't know him too well; he's one of those people I will talk to maybe once more in my life.

Anyways, we talked for like a minute.

And right after I said bye to this kid and parted ways, I realized the whole time we were talking, I had my hand down my pants, adjusting my "nut cup".

And I'm sure he noticed this.

And I just felt weird, in retrospect, for doing it.

I felt kind of icky, too.

Bittersweet

I think that this word perfectly sums up my view on life.

I was alive

I can get very paranoid sometimes; it's just in my nature.

Here:
I hit my head really hard the other day. And just a few days prior to this, I was discussing with someone the effects of concussions, and he said that if you go to bed with a concussion, you could slip into a coma.

So I kept thinking how I could have gotten a concussion (my head hurt a little bit). I knew this wasn't true though, but I just kept thinking it.

And soon enough this idea tangled itself in my head, and I couldn't untie it; I was thinking how when I went to bed and fell asleep-- I'd never wake up again. I'd slip into a coma. And that'd be it.

So I kept thinking, how it was possible, that this night, it could be the last night of my life.

And I went to bed.


And the next morning, I woke up, and it took me about 10 hours to realize that, no, I didn't die-- I was alive.

picnic

I realize that I want to go on a picnic very badly.

I want to drive out to some place where I have no fucking idea where it is, and I want to find a hill and lay down a blanket, and I want to take my food out of the basket, and eat the food, and I want to lie down, and I want to look up at the clouds.

And I want to keep looking at the clouds. For a very long time.




I really wanna fucking do all this.

It's odd playing with perspective.

I wasn't at school today. School didn't exist to me. And since I, the all-important person in my universe, didn't experience the school day--surely others noticed I wasn't there, right?

Right?

I guaranteed that if I were to ask one random person from each of my classes if he or she noticed my absence, he or she would say "nope."

It's just the way things are--with everybody.

Dance and Laugh

I do wish, I really do, that I followed this doctrine.

“We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

.

Give someone your picture.
It may sound crazy,
but it just may happen--
they may fall into a trance.

Befuddled

Hank Green.

Hank Green.

It's funny how easily reality changes for me.

So I played baseball with a Hank Green in little league. He goes to a separate school than I. I haven't talked with him for a long while.

We played his school today, and my mom mentioned his name.

Hank Green.

And I remember vividly a time in the near past when I was talking about this kid, and then all of a sudden he walked by out of nowhere and I said "Hank!"--even though I hadn't talked with him in a long while.

But this jig, this little interaction between us, it never happen. It couldn't have--there is just no time in which this event could have transpired.

And this could have just happened in a dream.

But I swear to God that it was real.

sleuth

I had a dream last night that I got mauled by a dog.

It was scary as shit.

The dog was a professional sleuth, it seems. It could find me no matter where I was, it was smart as hell, and it could jump like 15 feet.

We tried to psychoanalyze it to get its attacking-urges obliterated, but then I gave it some object that reminded him of his old ways... and it attacked me.

Woah!

But I'm glad I had the dream, to say the least.

Although right after I got up, I passed my dog and looked at him suspiciously...

Nonchalant

My day has already been mapped out, just by the way I woke up.

I think it's funny how this happens.

Will this mood last?

Or will I be able to beat fate this time?

Quote

Thanks for the words, Kurt:

I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you can see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.

Sometimes I lose myself.

I don't know where I go.

I sit around and grope blindly, on my hands and knees,
but it is always futile and
my hands come up empty.

I shout down endless, impersonal hallways;
my voice echoes and disperses;
it dies:

"Where are you?"

And then
coming from that hallway way, way, way down there,
a response from a meek and pitiful voice:

"I don't know."

And I never know what to say.

Target

You know the world is a fucked up place when, as you are dropping your friend off at his house, the neighbor kids--about 6 or 7 years old--point toy guns at you and pretend that they are shooting and killing you.

Two things

Two things that happened, that make me wonder. Just wonder.

1.) Our lifting coach for baseball got pissed off at our team for not working the other day. He gathered us all up and made us sit down. He then gave us a spiel about working hard. About its importance. About how he was embarrassed by us. And then, in the middle of this, out of nowhere, he started yelling.

I must say, this guy is not the yelling type. He just isn't. But I could tell that he had those feelings buried inside him at that moment; or if he didn't, he at least knew he should.

But when he started to yell, it was just so fucking incredibly fake. He looked like an idiot. It looked exactly like he was forcing it, soooo much.

And it made me sorry.


2.) The other day, I was playing catch with some kid at baseball. This kid threw it over my head, and right as it sailed over me another kid was walking out of the dugout, completely oblivious to the ball that was drawing near him at a very lethal speed.

The ball didn't hit him though, luckily. It narrowly missed him.

But the sad part is, right after he jerked to get out of the way, a huge string of drool instantaneously began dripping out of his mouth. I mean, the kid could've died. Right there. His life could have flashed before his eyes right then, but all there was to show of it was a Goliath string of spit. And he looked foolish as hell. He tried to wipe it up quickly so nobody would see it, but I saw it.

And it made me sorry.

Big Head

I have loads of cynical and pessimistic things that I had thought of to write about, but I don't feel like it right now. My mood is "chipper" (ha!) at the moment, and I really don't want to dwell on all those things. I'll do that some other time.

Here:

(This is to a friend I had a long time ago)

You told some others and I once about an embarrassing story in your life. You demanded that none of us ever repeat it, because it was embarrassing and all. Apparently, when your mother was giving birth, it took about five nurses to get you out because your head was so fucking big.

I just want to tell you that I have never told anyone about this. But it doesn't even matter; even if I did now, you could probably care less. You are a completely different person. But I am keeping my promise to that person whom you used to be, whom I used to know.

(Even though it was probably a lie in the first place just to get some laughs)

the morning's shoes

Thank you, Bob Dylan, for these lines from "Idiot Wind" that make me sad and thoughtful and pensive and give me shivers all at the same time:

'I can't remember your face anymore,
your mouth has changed,
your eyes don't look into mine...'




And thank you, nighttime—really late nighttime—for making the music sound extra beautiful and touching and for making me realize that working late at night ain't half that bad.

Albeit the morning....

proudness

I have to say, I fucking love it when people are proud of me. I mean genuinely proud, where I deserve it, and they genuinely mean it...

But I know that no way in hell will there be people constantly saying they're proud of me... it just doesn't work that way. And that's stupid.

So, to fill the void, perhaps I need to start being proud of myself.

And I am horrible at that.

But the other day, I WAS proud of myself, if not for only briefly. Maybe I'm working towards it? Maybe eventually I can be genuinely proud of myself?

baby, baby

Perhaps my favorite quote EVER comes from Kurt Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle:

"Be like a baby,
The Bible say,
So I stay like a baby,
To this very day."

Gem

You:

are
a
real
gem.

Monkey's escape from zoo

I think it would be funny if, on some x-rated site, some guy had this as his user ID:

I_HAVE_A_BIGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG_indexfinger




find the irony.

Story

I just came up with a story idea, and I am proud. This one's message means a lot to me, and it's very personal. I hope for it to be emotional. But I will really need to articulate myself well, though. I don't know if I will be able to do that. We'll see how it goes.

Only hope

I am incredible. I am godly. I mean, look at me! I just had one of my worst days in a very long time, but I'm not going to let it affect me! I am just going to forget about... to start over tomorrow!

Geez, I am incredible.








I can only hope so.

Not funny

Sometimes when it's late at night, and I am about to go to sleep, an idea hits me, and I sift around to get a pen and the piece of paper nearest to me, and I scrawl down my idea. This idea always, at that moment, strikes me as really funny, but then I see it in the morning and go, "Man, I have a really dull sense of humor."

I was just cleaning my room today, and I found a piece of paper with this note scrawled down on it:

--look at tag inside girl's crack on thong
--says, "if you can read this, you're short"

And somehow I thought this was funny.

Quote

This quote, by Robert Brault, makes me laugh:

"The average pencil is seven inches long, with just a half-inch eraser - in case you thought optimism was dead."


This quote, by Mark Twain, makes me sad:

"There is no sadder sight than a young pessimist, except an old optimist."

Fear is a Man's Best Friend

One of my worst fears:

A person I know. Very close I am to this person. This person takes a trip, or I don't see for a while, or just isn't there for a bit.

This person has a revelation. Or a realization. Or forgets. Or time takes over.

This person changes.

The next time I see this person, the special connection-- it is not there. It is gone. For me, of course, it isn't, but it is all one-sided. I look at them, they are cold and distant, they have moved on.

And I haven't.

Maybe it is change that I fear, or fail to accept. Maybe I cling to the past a bit too much.

But I am equally afraid that one day, I will be that other person.

Is it?

(http://comics.com/ballard_street/)


Perhaps it's coming...
I felt good most of the day.

Wisdom

I heard someone say the word "wisdom" today, and I realized that I hadn't heard that word in a long, long time.

WOMBAT

I tried to relay
just how important it was to me;
I guess you never noticed.

All I ever wanted was for you to say that single word;
you could have meant to say it, I suppose,
but I never heard it.

Emotional discharge, it's
flowing, flowing, flowing,
whereabouts, I do not know.







Mannnnnnnnnnn, that sucked.

F

I have failed today. I didn't come up with a measly thought to put on here, except these three stinking things:

1.) When I drove home tonight, I saw on the side of the road a car pulled over by a cop. I glimpsed four teenagers inside, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was for some petty drug situation. And I thought how these people, in the car, how frantic their young minds were at that moment. And then there was me, driving by, looking on...

2.) I saw a mother with a baby girl around the age of two today. The girl would wander off, and the mother couldn't take a breath of relaxation. She was always checking on the girl as the girl satisfied her curious nature. I realized, then, just how damn powerful the love between a mother and her baby is...

3.) ---------------------
I want to be poetic.
to be sentimental.
to be held.
to be me.





I failed today.