Perspective

Alright.
I woke up at 2:50 PM, for example. I mean, I was supposed to be in Atlanta, eating lunch.
I should be ashamed of myself, really. I went to sleep at 6 am, after having woken up at 11 pm. I thought it was around 4 am when I woke up, though. Before that, I went to sleep at some point in the afternoon. Uh. Well I didn't sleep the night before, and went to sleep from 12 to 4, I guess. Nightmare.

I did, embarrassingly, dream though. But it's not ok because the only reason for that must just be some type of change in my diet. Whether an amount of food, or just one dollar-store brand pain pill, this also must be a result of this whole sleep-terror-carnage-hammer crap that I must be doing. It is very stomachache-worthy.

But why "write" after all this time? Because. It's one of the things that I do, apparently. You know, so I can be all "I do this, this, and this kinda". Maybe, though. It'll just be a part of it. It's ok because I know for fact that me doing this right now has absolutely no histrionic intention. And as a note to me in the future; I know.. it only gets more ironic. Eh, I'll only learn more about new words I guess.

Ok, so it's too late for me to respond to my job offer, I'm sure. So, the only other option is to wait out this hedonism, and do something new. At least something new won't be grueling. Yeah yeah yeah, the feeling of "dread" at the thought of putting on an apron and washing veggies. I'm still not ok with that. I found a dead spider in the celery once. Oh yeah, that's why I came up with that "pest vs. pesticide" crap. True, though.

Alright so I'll do this. My thought is just that if I have something to show for being alone, then it'll only gain me merits. No frosting and representational bacon for me, no more. "Alright, I get it. Beds are comfy." And anything that you can have an argument with yourself about it just good television.

Yall, I'm Donkey.

Meanwhile

Trying to get that whole thing going... Er

Checklist of things I told myself I wouldn't do. I bet someone "likes this." This is real, though. "Sounds redundant and tempting." Right. Mostly over with, though. It'd have to be a small list, some times. I'm probably one of those times. Wait, but this is "told myself" so that limits it even further. You can't hold yourself accountable for not doing things you would not do even if you were able to know that you could make a conscious decision about whether or not to have done it.

Just got the idea: "there will be a time where I will only know then what I know now."

This ought to be a note to myself. These are things I had been meaning to talk to myself about. "hahahaha" Not really, though. I want to go to the movies. I want to regret it, though. There are things I'd like to say, but it just won't work because it's an open net of different optic fibrous possibilities in which to catch any possible, excitable concept I'd think to say. That's what.

Also: "one moment of reality, ruining months of imagination."

Meaningless, unhonestly, but something familiar. We know what we mean. You know it. I'd hate to take that "trip" though.

I guess it applies to any of the common theme of the year, thus far. "Thus" on purpose. He only wants anything to do with us because he thought we filmed a lot. She only likes anything about us because she thought we did drugs. He only seems interested because he thought we all drew. They all must assume we're up to no good. I'm just perplexed by any indication of a double chin.

Alright, a phone call to make. It was good, though. Months concluding because of a payment plan. Closest ever, to a stream of consciousness. Being quoted, mostly.

Oh yeah, quitting. Having to come up with cover stories, just in case. Well, one things is for sure. The whole publishing right thing. Italians.

Give.

Fevers

What a terrible headache, on top. I woke up, covered in sweat. This fever is awful. In bed for two days. This doesn't happen to me. I like how it reminds me of when it did happen to me, when I was little. Horrible.

It's June 1st. That freaks me out, somewhat. My birthday is coming up, soon. I have never been this passive about my birthday. Apparently, Tash put in my 2 weeks. She got me in this situation, without my knowing, and she's getting me out the same way, I suppose. Still, I guess it's better to have an impulsive decision be made for you... than to.. spend two sick days... not making a decision? The door.

Alright, quickly quickly. All the things in the past couple of weeks that could have made me sick...again. Bee sting? Well, I mean, that slight fever I had before the sting kind of proves that wrong. I kind of just want to impress folks with all of these tiny ailments I've been getting... Eh.

Probably confusion. These topics. I actually can't sit or lay in one place, though. Even if the grammar. Oh yeah.. Renaissance Festival, hah. Past, though.

How long has it been, kind of? When, too? Delusion, for a moment. Oh yeah, wasting free time, again. Should read some quotes. Nah. Tired of quotes. I need to step, outside, though. Plus, there's that pending lawsuit.

Cycle

That's Why It

Ok, I actually didn't expect to miss a couple days of hey. Today was another payday of course, so I was at work of course. $280 kind of. Don't know. An actual hard day at work, I think. Just aggravating that everyone particularly knows about how avocados are when they're ripe. Really don't want to talk about that part, though. I'm kind of in the middle of fixing up my room. Thinking about what to put the stereo on top of and where to actually put it, in order to keep that side of the room as open-ended as possible- if that means anything to me. Kind of reluctantly making a place for CD's in my closet. Record are the only thing of that category that makes sense in a closet.

Also entertaining the idea of the whole steampunk-style bs. Er, that one post-apocolyptic deal just because such a place is my room, where I plan on manifesting myelf. You know- to celebrate the thought of where I ended up after all of anything. Anything big or small that has happened. Continues to feel like it, though. Trying to believe tomorrow's work will go by quicker. Today was just one of those "I did a lot of extra good stuff, but everyone else is going to only notice the negatives." I don't try to speak out about things like how I actually haven't made any mistakes so far. Only saying it here because of the whole cathartic thing. Hah! Speaking of which, one year ago the same situation about the actual word "catharsis." Just like in 5th grade when I knew that the symbol is called a 'hyphen' and I just didn't finish answering because I get that feeling of "my god, this has suddenly become the wrong answer." Plus, all these scrapes and cuts and general wounds I keep getting on the job. Working during my break. I don't know the rules. Am I more likely to "postal" because I keep it all inside?

I left a note on the "shift communication" thing, last week. When I finished writing it, I looked at it for a while. I looked at it for a while because I'm constantly aware of the camera right above me. The same reason I had those two dreams. I was looking at the note that I had written, and it made me think about how well I had actually crafted what I said. It showed my style of writing, a pretty good word choice, a main idea and its details, and some pretty outstanding grammar. All the things that they look for in the high school graduation writing tests. It was a tiny note, but still. For what? I'm working in a produce section. Is this proof that everybody eventually gets a job? This doesn't necessarily show my mood lately, though. I kind of figured this 6 day work week would get to me. Today was proof, to me, that there is such thing as a prototypical "hard day at work."

I can write well enough. So, I sort veggies.

Also impressed with... Well if I say it, then there goes the criticism. I'm trying to treat myself in the past as being another person, now, for the fact that I want to seem impressed by that guy. That guy actually impresses me, a lot. Mostly when I find old drawings of ours in old sketchbooks. I didn't expect to find more than what I already had in Fondue Social. Yet, I found that huge sketchbook of mine and struck gold.

What if people decorated the room with theme of their self? Neglecting all previous styles- reasonable of course, since everyone is subconsciously inspired. Agh, I don't mean "styles" exactly, but I mean to avoid actually going for that style goal. Kind of like how I'm considering the actual style-goal type of thing with that factory/clockwork/apoco-coco/stamepank thing I mentioned, for example. To actually set out to "decorate" your room and instead of looking in some vain of decent cliche, just putting a bunch of things that you did all over the place in a stylized manner. To do away with the obvious- posters of yourself or things you've put on paper, portraits.. self-portraits, actual printed and bound journals you've written, and hahah a bunch of tapes and dvd's of yourself kind of sitting around in your movie collection. Then you get to the furniture and that's where everyone differs the most. Self-made furniture is valid in the sense that you actually just built it with you in mind- whatever that might mean. Not in the sense that the piece of furniture is "an expression of yourself" because that actually ruins the entire concept I'm explaining. It'd make more sense to decorate previusly made stuff with just yourself. Once again, not little expressions of yourself, but actual aspects of yourself that most likely annoy you or others. What I mean is that the end-product is your own little idea, not the things in it.

In the immediate idea, any post-apocolyptic style is probably ideal because at that point, you can incorporate anything ever. Your room, or anything you're putting together, can actually just be the end of civilization and backward. Just set a date, and avoid everything after it. I don't do style, though. Hah as if people would ever dress that whimisically. Actually laughing at Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland because of how no one would actually do all that in their daily dress. I guess that's where he's going with his "you'd have to be mad as a hatter" in order to dress that way all the time. That's actually a better idea than I thought. I didn't think I cared. He's definitely one of those subconscious NLP teachers of ideas. I really didn't think I cared.

So after that "hard" day at work, all I'm thinking is fashion and style. That's legitimately "new." I'll see what I can do. Sounds pretty teenaged. But I go through my phases of whether or not I find anything redeemable about customizable clothing and interior choices.

Ok, that's the that's the.

Precautionary though

I'm full. Listening to MC MassMurder. Where is he, actually? January 14th, apparently. Now he's out somewhere. Hopefully soon, though.

Alright, I didn't want to wake up as early as I did. I got dressed and went to that job interview at my sister's job. It was incredibly easy going, and I guess I became more optimistic about it at one point. It wasn't really an interview type of interview until later, though. That's when it got kind of aggravating, I guess. The worst thing is that ringing sound. Hopefully, I won't be near it. Eh. No, "ugh" actually.

After that, I opened up a checking account. Put in that $100 I was secretive about, on Tuesday. The bank on the square. We left, and I was just kind of down in the dumps or whatever. Not in a good mood. Like, a human type of 'bad mood' that you can say "aw cheer up" to. Just morose, or whatever. My iPod shuffled in order to basically tell me to cheer up. Well, oh well. I can a appreciate a bad mood, once in a while.

So, tomorrow I come in to work, basically at 7:30. I'm supposed to learn how to open. Oop. Hopefully some good will come out of is.

Today.

Not A Trend.

Woke up and had to get ready to go to the airport, right away.
I ate cereal. The last from my own personal box. I dressed up in a light blue polo over a my "Jesus Loves You" white t-shirt. I put on khaki pants and my red hoodie. Felt like I looked good, or other way around.

We did our business at the airport, which was to ask 3 people 2 different things, each. Simple. Then, my mom and I went to get 2 free bagels with coupons. I felt embarrassed because I was using half a brain. I should have gotten a sweet flavor and an orange juice to have made it worth while and dignified. I got plain everything, untoasted. Like I said, half a brain.

Drove through Paces Ferry and all that, which I realize is more familiar than I thought, and I stayed in the car while she shopped. That was all for that. I spent today reading about exploitation films. I tried to watch them, but I felt like I was wasting time. One of those dressed up days. It was sunny, too. Yikes. Now, that I look back, something about today better pay off.

I feel lively, but ashamed. I got a few good ideas, out of it though. Except they're the kind destined to be lost in time. Literally. I took time to try to knock something of my to-do list, which was "look through Fondue Social for offensive material." Easy, but at this point it seemed in vain because there has got to be a more convenient way. I've thought of releasing it in separate parts on plain paper, redoing each thing in there as a comic strip, and making it into an e-book. It's one of those situations where it looks less glorious the more I have to look at it. I don't appreciate it as much. I need an assistant. Not really, but some sort of adviser.

No obvious solution for the major problem. A secret solution for the recurring problem.

Let's Watch.

Now I'm Allowed

Ok. I've been sitting here trying to do this character design. There, I'm legit. I'm trying to combine two different iconic figures because they're both iconic figures. I won't say who, but the result I keep getting is this koala version of Fide basically. I'm doing this for this idea I have, for what would be called a "graphic novel," that needs a main character. At this point, I'd have to redeem myself.

I'm not a graphic novel or comic book type of man. I know this because I actually have not the traits that they do. They hone their interests in far different ways that I care to know. From my point of view, these people that I am not of, these folks include average novel enthusiasts that have a thing to say about a book and this thing that I couldn't possibly get a hold of. They're just a different element. They have one face.

What I mean to say is that I was drawing... and then a story happened. I'm on no mission. I mean, now I am because it started itself. Fine, I'm not ashamed. I'm literally just kind of debating on giving any details. So I'll probably just turn this into mush. That's how I am with people these days.

While I'm at it, yeah, I've unresponsive to people. Which means unfulfillment. In order to follow through with one of those things, I'll have to work on that aspect. Gah, all I am is cryptic. Ok, the thing I started this thing talking about, I have given the title 'Tar-pit Super Stray" which is of course my own personal play on words (as opposed to Super Star.) Then, this paragraph was a little thing about me not really following up on the resolution of talking to people. Hah, ironic. The fact that I explained it, is the first step in solving that issue.

In other reality, I went to the unemployment office with my mom. The unemployed aren't even as miserable as expected. It's actually all good. Still, I have to do something to kind of get us out of this little situation. I want my mom to be the same as she's been. We don't need to worry that much about health right now. The fact that this period of time seems like this is all necessary. Well, I better not be passive and just wait for it all to transform into the next act. Ok, what am I doing?

Affirm.