Control

Ahh what a great night, last night. Well, that's over. Today I've just been old hermit. No, I can't tell if I'm just getting almost too particular recently. I think I might becoming choosy or whatever the better word is. Like, I actually think I got aggravated with the thought of people doing things in my room in the way that I don't usually do them. I'm getting afraid that I'm beginning to want things to go my way. I'm almost sure that what I am actually doing has nothing to do with what I'm thinking. There's no way of telling for sure, I mean. I just can't tell because it's like I'm very sure that when I am doing things, that I am doing them for my only right reason. But then the situation just turns into smleh.

Well, all last week I was doing great. I was on a roll, I was writing all types of material and that type of stuff that I do that cannot possibly be criticized or considered futile (because I am also imagining the response to my admitting to writing interesting stuff being looked at as a 'lame hobby'). And see that's just it. I wasn't thinking about this type of crap. I wasn't thinking about the negative things that exist in other universes. I wasn't thinking about universes either, for that matter. I had a clear head for the week. It was like I was headed toward a certain zone, where no one could mention drugs, paranoia, or depression (none of which pertain to me, but bother me when I realize friends are going through this type of junk). I was feeling.. heh.. I was feeling ok (can't stand the phrase "feeling good" for some reason. I claim that I don't believe that a person can do that in the sense that no one has the right to judge what "good" feels like.) and I was calm, in anticipation. Maybe I was waiting for last night. Now, I'm just letting things bother me. People talking loud. i can't tell if that's something that... heh. I don't get bothered, of course not.

Ahr. What I was saying.. Last week, I was doing good. Trying to think of specifics besides the fact that there was a point where I realized the actor Jason Segel seemed cool. I guess the 'accomplished' feeling came from the fact that all of the notebooks I write all this crap in are pretty full. Now before you have already read the words "notebooks" and "write" and already gotten halfway through this sentence, realize that these 'notebooks' are really just.. ah.. you'd really have to see them, but the main point is that they barely have anything to do with writing. So do not even associate it or me with writing. I will not disgrace these things buy calling them "idea books," either. And that's my problem, this week. Or just today, actually. I fear that I actually might just be being a control freak. See, now I'm feeling like I remember myself saying this about myself once before. Actually, hah, I might have been talking about someone else. Still, I'm trying to keep level. I guess it's the fact that because last week, absolutely everything was in my hands, and now that this is the period in which I share my ideas, I am not willing to hear anyone else's. Which is false because I am amazingly open to ideas involving the comedy team. Yep the comedy team. That's what I've been so proud of. Especially last week. That is where my mind was last week. The comedy team. Fail-safe. And now that the day I was waiting for is over, I guess I've been back to whatever. Universe A. My home world. Not the real world, just the place where I grew up. Hm. Maybe that means I need to take each Universe A time to grow up. Or maybe I distribute my grow-ups equally into each universe. So stupid, the word, but in one of these worlds I've come to believe that not a soul should be ashamed of words. And in another, I think the opposite: the whole thing about certain people ruining certain things. In some places, at some moments, no one can ruin a thing.

Back in "Real" World, there's the sound of the lyrics "I told you- no I'll never let you drag me down to hell " which fits. I only call that one "Real" just because that's the crappy one where.. ahem.. sex, drama, and drugs exist. Again, not for me- literally, honestly, and the absolute truth. Those things can get real. But they're all complete bs to me. Cool because there's no way to detach yourself from it without looking like you're-- Hell.

Still, the fact that I've clearly gotten back into talking about this stuff, and the fact that I haven't gotten over the terminology factor just kind of bothers me. That's why I was trying to ignore certain friends of mine. It would do me good, and it has nothing to do with them--oh oh-- just the fact that what they're saying is just going to make me fixate on some other realities. You know. "Drag me down to hell". And that may be the cause of the control-freak thing, as well. I'm temporarily banishing certain folks just because they're not in the same mood as I am (mostly because they haven't heard the same news that I have). They're not thinking about the same things, and that- THAT has to be the problem with long-distance relationships of any sort. They see ABSOLUTELY different things. Absolutely no way to communicate. The details have to gather. Things become less effective from farther away. "You'd just have to be there".

So, what's the deal? Is there anything upsetting me? Well, one thing I do want to get over. That awkward meeting, yesterday. Ah. And that other awkward thing. And the thing I didn't do. And the thing from 2 years ago that I reminded myself of, an hour ago. Redemption? Hah, listen, I'm actually convincing myself that you can get over any awkward situation by turning into a big.. show. Well, hell, that ol' "success is the best revenge". Hah, now that quote is going to make me think of when I told that to Fide and he just focused on the 'revenge' part. But the point, moreover, is redemption.

Ok. I hope this flows well. Actually. Ok, I'm about to just type what I'm thinking in order to help myself out so hold up. Now, if I completely cut myself off from the whole: "imaginary people," "not exist," "universes," "I act different to certain people," "I can't remember my relationship with certain people," "man, I messed up," "anger," "disappointment," and "back-up plans"... does that mean I'm also cutting myself off from actual.. er.. "inspiration" for the things.. God.. that I do? Not to mention "what is it that we do?". That didn't help at all. Wait a minute. This has absolutely nothing to do with last night. As in- this is not even the same.. ah hell, here we go.

One of the things that got me earlier. Two things, actually. Hah. Hah. There is always absolute Hell in trying to defend Kanye West. There. Simple. Let's say defending Kanye West has absolutely nothing to do with the man himself. He's only famous for the fact that he symbolizes the exact situation that I am actually trying to defend. Kind of like Obama (because I thought of Chicago). I mean, that's what "idols" are (and I mean "idols" as famous people in general) there for. They represent an intricate ideal. That's why no one is "the one famous person". You become a fan of one particular thing because that represents that situation. I actually don't care if I'm saying anything new- remember that. But I'm just saying- to defend Kanye is to defend that one ideal of "what I am doing/saying is being translated horribly wrong". Like, jumping the gun. Like, trying to lift something heavy when you haven't even considered building muscles. As in- not ready YET. As in- maybe I need to grow up- once again. Or. Maybe I'm just not wrong.

Other thing was remembering something that could have been considered insanely passive-aggressive over the summer. I mean, how often do people around here blatantly use the words "main character" in reference to real life? Ok, first things first. I'm not saying I'll ever do so, but for someone to call themselves a main character is actually justifiable. I think I'm treading over old grounds (hah) so, I won't even justify that statement- which doesn't need to be justified because it is actually a kind-hearted thing, really. It's one of those things, you know? "Importance of self" (in social situations) is just a matter of moderation. I'm fine. No new lessons. Really just an argument of how "cool" it is to hate yourself vs. how "cool" it is to hate other people. Then there is just the absolutely honest and pure reality of "I have never heard any of those words". So, I'm fine. I just want to talk about that last part with someone before I finally decide what I mean.

Those two things kind of topped off this mood of today. Finding out that no matter what, I'm still going to look like I'm saying/doing mean, untrustable things? Even if the thing I was attempting is fool-proof? Maybe it's because i forget how I look when I'm doing it. I'm just fat :(

Yo.

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Update

Yeah. Today, which is (can't stress this enough) completely not like me, I've gotten a ergh "short temper". I didn't even mention that I was getting ugh "frustrated" with the fam today. Shame that I put a negative outlook about them before I even said anything positive about how I feel about them. You know- because I don't even talk about "fam". Whoa. My God. I just said "feel"("yeah but didn't he talk about 'feeling ok' earlier?"). Ha. Hah. Actually, that just explains this entire thing. It has to just be today. So in that big old open world, I am just a nice, creative (y'all can't stress that enough) young man. Fat too! :P And once every almost-never, I can just be "man he mean"- and that'll be by complete accident. I'm a man of ideas. That's who.
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and then. whoa forgot. oh yeah. how you're not allowed to bring up anything. you're only allowed to be reviewed. I'm being cruel, I think this is making it worse. As long as no one blatantly copies what I'm saying here. I've been sucked in. 1. I wanted to ignore the 'writing' side of things (this) 2. Forcing myself to ignore is just the same as ignoring anything that isn't an internal conflict.
Bottom line- last night was fun. My friends and I went to a show. I got a free dvd.

Shreads

Brainpower. Like, it does everything when it's turned off. I'm good. It's almost like a snack. A lot of them.

Ok, so, kind of like what I wrote down as a note. Writers don't get to say anything because they say too much. I'd rather do something else and throw in some words. In that regard, I'm almost ashamed.

Not sure where to start off, but nah I am a person who someone is mad at. I've been on an accidental rampage. Accidentally destroying from the inside out. Stealing free cats and vandalizing some vandalism. Cutting ties, impossibly. Maybe resentment is a good way to leave folks.

With that on my shoulders, I turned into packages of ice cream, last night. I woke up as personal editions for someone to spend the night sulking above. I was that and it's ok because I "trip" people out. I spooked folks. I was quoted. Next level.

I think I was given a little bit of a prize. I could probably sleep. Oh yeah, that's what I've been trying to do for weeks. A week. Not the sleep, but the chance. At least I got my mustache taken off, quickly. Offending, warpath. All by mistake. It's ok, I must be right.

I won't forget, for a tiny bit. I just think.. I forgot. Fine.

Nigh. It is.

Theater.

It started out with a dream, and the most significant part was the number 14. That's how many seconds we were able to last. You were keeping score. I noticed, so I one-upped and wrote 15. Maybe it'd give us something to strive for, next peek. Somehow, you ended up on my left side and finally spoke. Unfortunately, all you did was inform me of a quote. As a result, what you said was something about a phallic object being over-used. Still- underneath your actual words, I heard a tone of something like "You know, we're not always going to have this chance. We might as well enjoy it (or do something about it)" That's when I actually had to wake up, and walk around.

Before that conclusion of the dream, in hindsight, the storyline was a premonition of the subject-matter of the actual day that was ahead. I was in a car. I did things that would offend anyone who had known me, previously. This person was offended, but it was settled. We had all sat down to watch some animated feature about animals. At a point there were three animals, separated by two lines on the screen. The cartoon outlines of the animals had stood stagnant, and the shape of the animals were essentially a maze. In the actual context of the maze, the edges were bumpers in which all biological matter of the animal had exited the body. These animated creatures were decaying, from the inside.

Then came the part where you joined me. If you know who "you" are, then it can only mean you remember the same dream. We were keeping track of the time it took us to be able to look into the eyes of one another. One another. I know. It legitimizes itself because, like I said, I had to wake up. When I did wake up, it was one exactly one hour before the time I had planned to wake up. I had a plan, this day. I was thrown an empty package of birth-control pills to throw away. I asked what these ones in the middle are for. Mon. Tue. Wed. Thur. Fri. Sat. So on. The ones in the middle- blatant placebo. That would be the word that echoes throughout the day. Placebo. It's just so elementary.

I had time to prepare, so I actually considered which parts of my plan I would actually keep the same. It turns out, that placebo was involved- in contrast to what I did not think. Reunited with the road, and our party grew. It hit me. We had to walk around, so that our pride would not get a little bit "vintage." Our first stop was in the corner store that everybody steals from. I call it that because I was the last one out. I remember convincing myself that there had actually been gummy cyanide candies, inside. There's no telling how long I was actually in the store, or how long I actually did drink from the water fountain. I held some water in my mouth, reminiscent of when you weren't allowed to keep drinking from the fountain in earlier school days. I was looking in a mirror when I finally took that last sip, as if I had gone back for an entire other drink.

It took forever for me to finally walk outside, and to realize that the figures outside waiting were actually each one of the people I had walked here with. We finally sat down, and that's exactly it. I stopped moving. They stopped moving. I made a point, I disappeared. My plan showed up. A table of a lot of mascots for the month, thus far. Here for me, that's where it began. This was my chance, but the two days prior were intended for forgetting what I would do in this situation. It wasn't the hypothetical situation that I could expand upon for hours, but it was somewhat of a digit. All through the day, people asked my if that was a "heart" on my neck. It was just red marker. One of the first few words that were said involved the variation of 'placebo' that caught me off guard. Someone was going to call me a phony.

Two people met, and I couldn't enjoy it. People meeting each other is one of my favorite situations. Sometimes that situation would cause me to scream. It was for the better. I remember trying my hardest to figure out the word I was looking for to portray the visual of a tv-personality's lines being scrolled up through a monitor. I had to think of that in order to explain how someone had previously been speaking in paragraphs. Underneath, something much more important happened this day.

It took me about three hours to eat the box of rice and beans that I was fooled into buying, when I needed it the most. Slowly, several disappointeds came and went. I didn't disappoint them, at all. My piece of disappointment came from the delivery of some message I thought I would be able to send. There were some people who were around me, for the sake of being around me. I didn't know it. There were several times, in the past, that I wanted to be around them. I didn't hear what I wanted. That's what makes me a phony. A synthetic. Intellectuals want groups of intellectuals because they have a higher concentration of being alone. Being alone makes words that much harder to hit. You can't really hide for two weeks, and expect to jump out and tell someone why they should hide. Redeem yourself, and just present it to them like you had planned.

So, there. One takes shape of the real thing, but it doesn't really give much effort in to being portrayed as the real thing- that one ends up being the disappointment. The other somehow gets help from others into being just something similar. A clear case of "Hell, why not?" So, I claimed not to know. I didn't know it then, but my state of being stubborn fixed my dilemma that I was trying to enact the entire weekend. Eventually, it's a paradox, but now I just need a lot of replacements. A lot of Hell, why not's. Some imaginary friend, they've got. In the same breath, I don't want to give any person the satisfaction of being imaginary if that's what they claim to be.

Although, now that I think about it, we're probably giving the same reaction. Gabbing and being gabbed about. If only our spokesperson swapped places. It'd make the story a little bit more suspenseful. So my plan, and paradox, was just detachment. That being done, just means it's time to go on with the rest of the day. That's when I remembered that I just couldn't. This was the last stroke before my portrait dries. My next mission was to figure out who I thought I was. Something like that.

I was told who my mom and my sister were. They're just names, this day. I was told that I wasn't doing enough. It was a parody of publicity, spoken by those who mirror it. Researching me, they know that I'm somewhat of an alter ego. I'm a generous alter ego with no need to hide the original person. I will, however, hide the name. It'll show up, inevitably. I found them because I was separated from my central "group." I was apart from my temporary group- the friends you end up with on a field trip. I had left the tabloids. Again, I was in the middle of a crowded town center. I heard the same voice that I heard one year ago. One of the local bands that perform here, each year. That's when I was convinced of my latest theory. The one where I shamefully agree that we're all in the same year, always. It made sense, this time.

There was another part where I had tried to explain my theory that I had just before that one. It's ok, though. There's only one missing piece. The second time I explained that one, was when I realized a common theme in children. I was with another group, the new-schoolers. I looked down to see a child calling my name because he looks up to me, in a matter of thinking. Hell, I can't disappoint him. I can't let him down, even if he only thinks I'm from the tv- which I am not. I asked the new school advice on what I should be doing with my life. I asked because I expected them to answer with exactly what their parents are giving them. They surprised me, but only left me with what I had already known. Who isn't thinking about travel, in this situation?

I convinced myself that my descendant was staring deep into my eyes. Still a baby. This was the second one that let me know what I was doing. I was walking around, station-to-station, asking who I was and what I should do. Looking for more, I ended up near where I want to be one day. That's when my televised group showed up. They were looking for me, and I went into the place that I want to go one day. I had been there before, it was no big deal, but circumstance is a factor. With them, I was reunited with the personal effects of my group. This was a point where I would not say a word. Lost, and revolving around me, this was my self. There was the mother and father, the insecure, the introverted, the skeptic, and the subconscious. I'm just as ashamed as their ability to decide, but they were a working body. My body walked through the area, just as I do when I wander. We detached again. This time, minus the introverted and the skeptic. We were among the casual.

Toward the end of it all, I realize that I am who I am in others. Out-of-body, I could practically be nothing more than a fake profile. I could be the main character of everyone's favorite story wrapped into one protagonist. Just as an imaginary person can be remembered in legends, folklore, and handed down stories- I can be remembered in casual conversation. Physically, I am represented in the actions of a group of any given number of friends. Quite literally, I'd be a desperate attempt of a child's imagination to create bs.

Feeling doesn't matter much to me, I guess. I can empathize, sympathize, and even synthesize (maybe even "peepathize")- but feeling is not a reaction I will ever aim for. I guess that swaps one letter. What I realized, through this visual journey, was just a couple of hints for what I can do. I think. This time, I hope not to disappoint.

I am myself, and I might as well be my fake self. Your self.

Nothings

Noticing that 16th of this month actually might not have happened.

It was ok because I was actually kind of waking myself up, this morning. I thought I wouldn't have an ok time waking up because I didn't get much sleep last night. Seems like someone was watching my back in the sleep department. Hard to explain, but it did explain a lot. My point was that I had to wake up early this morning. Gah, the missing pieces.

Today was anticipated to be a big day at the store. Life fest. Not only that, but the spring Life Fest. I really just can't get over it. Everyday is either just a celebration or a question of mortality. This is just LIFE we're fooling with. Don't overlook your puns and wordplay. This is life. Life. My friends and I all hear it each time we hear that one sound clip of the "Life-Life life life." It's Life. My god.

Still, I was 100% in my own head the entire day. Thinking about the morning, over-reacting, last night's conversation, college, human behavior (literally, literally), and now just trust and byrony. hah.

Right now, I just finished an entire jug of water, I have the stereo playing, but I'm trying to figure out how to make use of the night after that nap I just took after I walked home. All I can think to do is try to tell everyone what I'm doing right now. It's because of the encouragement, though. One of those nights, where they like the stupid little things you do. All I am is really just ashamed of my phone, my diploma, and of course just the word "life". Oh yeah I was also thinking about where things finally pay off. Ashamed that everyone who has ever gotten anywhere and claimed it was a struggle may just have done exactly the same things I've done.

Just in time for Frankenstein, again. If I am not mistaken, the kids in school are studying it again. It's important that i know which piece and era of literature. Just- if only I still knew where to find that diagram of the literary eras. haunting, but hey why not.

My God, imagine the musicals that must go on in someone's padded cell.

Actually primal screaming. I'm aiming and hitting. A battle of two different muses. Fueling each other. Don't flatter one's self.

K, my smell.