Knee

Ok now I'm in water
I came back from Pennsylvania just so I could make it in time for that court date. It was dismissed within moments of me arriving. Nonsense, I don't trust it. This was a few seconds ago, a few months ago.

Now, I'm in another bed. Now, I have no more travel plans. I've already lived in 3 places since then. I don't remember. I don't remember I guess. And it's not what I don't remember that I don't remember, it's what to think is what I don't remember enough about how to think.

This is enough to relieve the tension of the past, what, 4 months almost?

It's been a saturated platter of oil risen to the top and baked meat in the center. Flattery.

After having plateaued in maturity and thought, within all reason, I can only apply concepts in a manner that proves that I've never made progress in both maturity and thought.

Well someone's pregnant now. That means something. It ought to be known.

As a result, I'm probably slightly less likely to go hungry again.

The fact that famous musicians collaborate just because they're equally famous as the other musician. Especially for charity. That damned bubbly feeling of seeing favorite famous folks near each other.

When have I been genuinely inspired? Dreamself, I still has his chance to meet his queen.

Well I went to the museum today. Oh boy, finally. Feeding the ducks, yesterday, made me realize that I once had free time. Freedom, in general... I always had the best grammar.

Should anyone see my efforts and attempt to see similar significance in things? Don't care, I have to remember.

How to go about getting back into saying what I mean... I've been uttering haunting phrases to people lately in order to make casual conversation. Broken phrases under the guise of normalcy. A train passes, I call it "realistic". A glass fits in a washing machine, I call it "science". I taste a milkshake, and it's almost dessert. Nothing, of course, is wrong with these things especially since I'm me but it's like they feel like cannonballs to and from the chest!

I am oatmeal.
Cacti were relevant in kindergarten.
Thx.

Eager

And now the situation is that I am in State College, Pennsylvania. When I tell people that this is where I've been, some of them are going to wonder what it was like up here. I wonder if, like Indianapolis, I'm just going to say I didn't go out a lot. It wouldn't really be the case, but it reminds me that I'm fancifully kind of reaching the end in a way. I've offically been helped by all of the friends that I've considered to be the closest. In my imagination, I've unloaded the full arsenal this year; I've tactically and wastefully exhausted all of my resources in an attempt to conclude this unwinnable- again, imagined- war.

Things are fine here. So far I've been able to go to bed in a hazy, gloomy, somehow damaged mood. I mean that in a way that shows progress. I'm finally able to be somewhat comfortable enough to feel hopeless, if that makes sense. It's my first time in a college town, which is funny to watch. My first night, I was deliriously tired to a point where my head ached; I wasn't sure what to make of all I was taking in. To mark the occasion, when I finally met Justin (or Charlie), he insisted upon showing me a human skeleton that was for sale at an antique shop. That would be the only appropriate way to be introduced to a place he found himself in. This, of course, was once he'd gotten out of class after I'd been wandering around the campus for a while after the bus ride.

Everything is in place, though. That might be a problem. I've been reunited with my keyboard and I was finally able to charge my camera. I can do whatever I want. There's a decent amount of books and places to go. The condition, for some reason, is that I have to look for work in order to pay at least half of my way back to Georgia by the end of the month. It's fair enough- the ticket did look pretty pricy. I would honestly really like to, first of all. There's traces of a blinding white void creating the only apprehension I have about just doing it. In other words, any reason I have for not looking for work is made up. It, first of all, seems asinine to try to find a month-long job which of course is not reason not to find one. Then, I think, I should probably just pay him back with whatever job I get when I get back to Atlanta. Or what if I get enough money sent to me to pay for it ahead of time since the prices will be cheaper two weeks in advance? No, that seems well-intentioned but lazy. That's why I really want to have already found something. The only thing that stopped me yesterday was the fact that I didn't shave and that I was wearing a black hoodie. I was on a roll: looking everyone in the eye and smiling. I don't know if that's positive.

Always, things withheld. I'll be fine, I just don't want to do that thing where I avoid talking about what I'm doing during the day. I don't feel like I need to not be relaxed and upfront here, but this year has given me some nice little traumas. I'll do some online work at least. Everything, all around, just seems more and more futile to attempt. I halfway want to just stick my tongue out and smirk derisively at the thought of making more effort this year. I'll sit here with the cats and watch the world kinda fizzle out.

With so many ways to see things and with so many people doing so much, it's all just appropriate. I can do whatever I want. There's nothing disappointing to me about where I've ended up, and getting here has only showed me that no amount of feeling confused or just horrible will amount to the loss of my willingness to be. It's silly. It's all those things. I'll feel differently once I've fooled my way out of this non-turbulent split second. Right now, I'm calmed and cautious.

I don't feel like anything that I work on will ever be improved. The thought of new knowledge just advertises what I imagine an acute hemorrhaging to feel like. I don't claim to know what that is by any means, and it's probably an exaggeration. What I mean is that it makes me nervous to consider starting anything new because I always run out of time. No books, no projects, no long-winded lectures on something I've never heard of. I hate finding out that there's more I've never heard of. Still, I refuse that sense of scale of myself in comparison to the world. I'm fine.

I went to the grocery store, today.

Convenience

I'm on the bus. My next stop is in like 4 hours I guess. Who knows.

Other than that, the other thing, I am going to State College because that's where Justin ended up and he's inviting me there for about a month. I don't know exactly how that's going to work because I have possible holiday plans elsewhere but there's no turning back. I'm guessing I could find some type of tiny.. micro job to get some extra change to either travel or just kind of feed myself for a moment. I don't know if I'll somehow be able to film anything, but I'm hoping so. I have a plan for just in case there's any hope left in creation. I don't know where all of these things go.

I'd watched a bunch of documentaries in that little bit of time at my sister's friend's house. I learned about, mostly, how folks like me even attempt to get stuff distributed or whatever to get by for a moment. I'd hate to come off as one of those couch-hopping folks but there's a little bit to be learned. It's just funny to see the role played by those who own the couches.

The trend I've noticed with going from place to place is that there's always the roles of: the connect, the pet, the indifferent, and the awkward. The connect is the friend that invited you there who never entirely says anything directly about when things start to kind of take their toll with you staying there, but it's mostly a good relationship until then- it doesn't end bad but there's always a weird air about it. The pet is the pet or pets that you hang out with at the house- not always an animal but it's always kind of glad to see you there because hey- you're another friendly face- and it doesn't occur to them that there'd be any tension for any reason, money or otherwise. The indifferent is the one that doesn't really show any differing reaction to you being there. The awkward is the person who, from the beginning, makes you wonder how long this situation is gonna last.

This applies to all of the places I've lived at for more than a week this year. Well, maybe it also applies to the one-week ones but in a different way. I don't know if I'm admirable by any means for travelling at this point in my life. Isn't this what people wish to do? Am I the same thing as those characters who.. travel? I guess the journey itself wouldn't happen on my own terms by any means but I still would have been prouder if it were on a tour bus or if I'd met a lot of cool long-term friends along the way.

The south makes me shy. Two days in a row, someone behind a counter asked me, "Are you nervous?". This is a weird question to hear. I guess I always am because I don't know where I'm gonna go. The first person who asked me that this year was this little girl who lived at this house I slept at for a few hours. Her and this other young boy both seemed really old for just being tots*. The second person, yesterday, to ask me was some new employee at Matthew's job who couldn't seem to understand why I was there asking for something unrelated to the store. I still haven't gotten my mom's check or her package of candy for me, yet. Today, the person who asked me was this soft-spoken guy that looked kind of like Wesley Willis who handed me my bus ticket. This time I was confused about the confirmation or something. It's just funny. Still, it only makes me more uneasy to hear it. I just remember not running into any worried situations the entire week I was in Chicago. I bet I'm still fine, but it's just really intricate issues that make me seem nervous. I bet I'm still Cago-laxed.

What I mean is that I'm halfway between trying to realize how easy it is to talk to people and realizing that I don't have to want to talk to people. Oh that's why. My adamant stance on not having to talk to people was because of the work situation I was in that I used as a sign to leave Matthew's. I don't know if I explained that situation anywhere. On the other hand, I also have this other new set of beliefs based on a mix of forcing my will onto others (whatever that means) and just a bunch of other solipsistic things. That's not true.

I've lost focus, I must be done.

Unsettling

Oh. Well. And speaking of which, today we sat behind an empty van at an abandoned Checker's because it looked fully functional until things added up.

Hi. I feel rigged teeth marks on the inside of my right cheek. My right knee doesn't necessarily hurt, but it's aching to remind me that it's there. I'm hearing a repeating video game soundtrack. I need to throw away my trash; I'm a guest.

Alright, well, I can say I made it to December 2012. I don't know what things are up-to-date about my whereabouts and past few months, but now is now. I'm waiting, in a neutral position, until tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll be setting out on a 25 hour long bus ride toward Pennsylvania. I was looking forward to it until right now, where I'm realizing that I'll be bored. Not just bored, but bored on top of bored on top of anxiousness. I'm trying to apply a metaphor, but I don't remember if spinning tops ever go back to a faster speed once they start wobbling. All I mean is that I keep thinking things are going to slow down in a way but then something puts it all back into motion. The metaphor wouldn't have worked either way.

The past five- I think- days have actually not counted. They're kind of blank, with few details that move plot forward. Even jokingly I regarded anything that happens now as a bonus featurette. I'd just gotten back from Chicago, to nothingness. Before I left for there, I said that I didn't see anything else happening after that week was over. It wasn't a depressed or melodramatic tone, but I actually couldn't imagine anything happening in the horizon. Aspirations and planned dates were kind of holograms or reflections on the water. Like the writing staff was absolutely stumped a week before the premiere. Huh.

Well.

I have a court date on January 9th. That was my reason for even using my returning ticket, kinda. It's such a poorly written plot device of a ticket. I don't drive but I have, in my pocket, in my wallet, a citation for a Hit and Run. That's funny. I was in the back seat when my pal hit the sign at the entrance of his neighborhood.. apartment complex. I'm already tired of the story but it's the one story that gets more and more ridiculous sounding as I tell it. It gets easier to put the pieces together and realize how incredibly worthless this ticket is. Well anyway, that's what sent me back to Georgia. I still haven't told my parents. I don't want to add to anyone's worry.

I came back to Atlanta, ignored someone trying to get change, and just hopped in the train to the bus for Marietta. My baggage wasn't too heavy yet. I sat down, in reverence, in Dunkin Donuts to calm down and vocalize my situation. My mom called, I guess. The significance there is that my plans seemed solid for a moment; I was going to try to sign up for classes back at the school and wait for all of this to blow over- or it was to get a job- both plans involved going back to Chicago. What happened was almost a repeat of what happened the last time I got off the bus, when I came back from Indiana. I didn't tell anybody, so nobody picked me up. I had my bookbag on and I carried my other two things; the one with the leather handle hurts after a while. I walked to the school.

There was no use in walking to the school. It was a waste of time. I think I ate one of my apples there, though. I sat there, somewhat exhausted, for a couple of hours just watching sort-of familiar faces doing general college things. I sort of watched one kid I kind of know talk about Jesus, interpretations of the bible, Satan, and swag. The kid sitting next to me was uploading concert videos; his desktop background was just a list of bands that would make anybody that I'm close friends with burst into laughter or growl from a stomach ache. I don't care either way, but it all set the mood.

On this first day, I just sat until I realized no one was going to come and get me. I couldn't stay where I was before the trip. Though running low on resources, I did find a place to sleep that night and the next night. The night after that, I ended up where I'm at now. My sister's friend's house. A little out of the way, meaning I can't get to my mom's care package that I arranged to pick up at the square, but it's fine and filled with books. I should be leaving any moment now to pick up my ticket for Pennsylvania. I thought sleep would be pretty last night but it only made things more amorphous. At least I know where I'm at and I'm probably sure I know what I have to do.

There's more.

Deny

I got in trouble tonight because someone thinks I sell drugs. But at this point, what if I do. I have no way of knowing. I've been thinking about explaining to someone about Pavao, the kid from my senior year that was Croatian whose name type in T9 spelled Satan, to explain how he once said "Pavao is  in great depreesion" because of how statuses were back then just so I could say that I'm in great depreesion. To someone new, the rundown

Slice

I plopped a slice of pizza down on the space next to my laptop, on the table thing that's made for using a laptop in bed. That's enough to get a little bit disgusted with my life lately. Disgusted, specifically because I'd already gotten a pretty unsettling perspective of where my life is at the moment. Though, to know that I can un-selfish-ly say my life is kinda upsetting right now, kind of puts me at ease. It's not terrible but for the first time, I can say it kinda sucks but even then I'm handling it well but I don't know for how long, within reason. Everything is terribly conditional, as well. I already dropped the ball for using the word "laptop" though; as in: "yer life dont suck, ye got a laptop". It's conditional, bruh.

My parents are far away, and so is my older sister with our dog. Before I left for Indiana, back in January I guess, I sorta stole something from Michael's house. It was a little plastic slinky toy that, of course, at some point had been tangled up. One day, I took the time to sit down and untangle it. I took it with me as a token of proof that I can totally fix things if I just work at it, even if some parts of it are still kinda messed up.

What plane of life is that thought process from, anyway? It'd definitely do something in the box office.

As it turns out, what I do though, is come "home," shower (maybe. otherwise, I just wipe my face with an acne scrub thing), toss things from one side of the room to the other, eventually find out that it's too late to begin hanging out with someone, and then stare at things on the web. Now I'm 21 though, I can drink beforehand and gain so much weight. The alternative is actually hanging out with friends, which just makes me anxious about when I'll come back so I can make it to work in the morning. I wake up 15 minutes before work, and show up 3 minutes late. I'm anxious about one of my bosses making the decision to train me on the cash register. I don't want to, I just wanna come in and do the same thing and go home.

The slice of pizza I was eating, though, I got from Matthew who works right next to where I work. One of my most recent oldest friends. I was there hanging out for a bit last night, where I actually bought a sandwich for the hell of it. I wasn't hungry that time, and I wasn't hungry this time. In theory, I ought to save the food for the morning, so I have a reason to wake up. Doesn't work out. Before that, though, I was with a different set of friends. The type of friends that just make me act like a "nice, funny guy". With roommates and coworkers, I'm just "nice" because I need some sort of caution when it comes to the two things that are kinda necessary. I'm nice with these kids though because the caution comes from eh i dont know. Tryna get the summertime high school experience.

Yeah though. Incomplete thoughts, and for that reason, I'm totally not gonna.

Recoil

Alright, so I've made it. At this point I'm finally able to start catching up with myself, hone in on the craft. One thing is waveringly wrong though, at this moment. I have the bodily need of a shower, and I am debating whether or not it would be justified to do that at midnight. I will, I think. There's no way I'd do it in the morning. The odd thing is just that the only other person in the house is someone I still haven't even met. I cant help but imagine how that kind of sums things up lately.

This point in my life will be later looked back upon as that period of time where I was working at Wendy's, debating going to school for the summer, and going to comedy clubs. If anything happens with comedy, I'll just look back on it as a humble beginning. In particular, this being the week before I turn 21, one of the factors is that I'm on a subconsciously consistent search for the reason to keep doing the next thing in line for me. I word it that way because it's not necessarily "a search for a reason to get up in the morning" but a reason to stay up, up, up, and complete that task for the day that will inch me closer to kind of making things work out all over again. Whether or not that happens depends on a lot, but the just-as-consistent truth is that "things won't be the same". We're out of our house. My family is scattered, and the only things that will bring us together are things that can only bring us together had we not even been scattered.

I live with Alex and her boyfriend now. The goal is to get back on my feet and eventually move somewhere with Grant, but I can't figure out how money will work. Eventually, the only option is all of that gaudy success I've always had in mind. The silly stuff, that people always tell you to go to college to ignore. I mean, however long it takes, I still have to work towards the unrealistic. I literally have to, now. Whatever chapters come up will be the spice of it all, but I'm still just as well living some type of journey or whatever.

Points of optimism lately are just the comedy clubs and the possible chance to kinda enter the amature film maker circut. I sort of have a plan. Even today, we kinda got our makeshift writing staff together to plan out possible aspects of a short film we're trying to plop out to turn in to this movie night thing that's going on. Either way, if it works out, we'll have been on the big screen. Something. If that doesn't become a point of optimism, then I don't know. If it works, we'll do more. We'll reach out to others, for style and resources and all that junk. If that gives us a name in the Atlanta scene somehow, then we're totally looking for representation hell yea.

On the other side, I don't know when this will start but, we're going for the comedy market. Luckily we found an open mic night that's not as tense-seeming as the Lauging Skull but still a good place to practice jokes. I don't know what my style will be but that'd take time. I'd rather just get the CoolWin stuff going just to open up the floor to ask someone of management, "Hey can we get, like, a monthly show?" Which, of course, may either lock us in as staples at the venue or just open the door to our style and/or make some sort of name for what we're doing. Shit. Still, the fact that we're doing this and film to get out there, has got to mean something. Otherwise, i dont know, we'll make it a point to the whole "other avenues" type of thing and do other stuff. Do something with the music section, just to kind of get a nod from the music review people to just kind of show that we're slightly just as well inclined to the music thing. Eh. Then we'll get stuck I'm sure, by which point I'd have to remind myself to keep on rotating crops when it comes to making progress. This all just seems reasonable. I've got other things later on I guess.

Enks.