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.

Even

Alright, so an update on the hospital junk is in order, right? Well, yes, my dad is doing fine. Nick is in the hospital though. Blood clot in lung. Hrmph.

Well, yesterday. Too many things, really. Should have visited my dad, somehow. Should have watched the Little 5 Halloween parade. Should have met my friends at the air show. No progress made, in the least. Eh, those are days when I end up stacking more responsibilities. Not taking advantage of too many things to do becomes free time which becomes more things to do. I'm just waiting for myself to get stressed out, which I thought couldn't possibly happen but there's a chance it could sneak up on me. It can end up "people do that all the time, and they actually do stuff for a living," insulting the fact that I am not doing crappy physical labor or it can just be the fact that maybe my steady-yet-straying attention span won't allow it. You know. Because I am constantly paying attention to a lot of things. Hell, i don't know.

Whoop, a hospital pic of my dad just appeared. Heh. Weird to see. I'm actually just waiting for this to be over with. All people can do about family in the hospital.. gah. Gloating. That's despicable. I don't care who thinks I'm not doing anything to support. I am. This is what I would do in this situation. Let's face it. No telling what it says about me. Still, I know my dad knows better than those others who are blowing it out of pr... you know what, forget it. It's only going to sound like I'm aggravated. This is like one of those things famous people do on reality shows. Complaining about exploitation or feigning sympathy. I won't. No use in complaining about what people actually do. I mean, you can tell yourself it's a plot device and all that crap, you can tell yourself that's just how some people are, or you can tell yourself it's a difference between: men and women, feelers and thinkers, or intellect. Whatever. It's only going to top off my latest confusion about how many ridiculous opinions there are in the world. Er, the opinions themselves are never really ridiculous, but that fact that there is no "the" thing. No one wins, actually. Hm.

How I react in situations merely becomes "sit and watch". Mreh. So, I really just want to say that everything I do is a sterile reaction to the world. Really. Really. I have to be purely reacting the way things show up. The way they appear. It has to be. I mean, this is really not an opinion about myself in the world. It is what it actually is. As long as it doesn't look like I'm singling myself out for some stupid self-centered approval. Like, you get to a certain point after you've heard loads of things and thought lots of ways where you just keep talking despite all the ways you'd have to be contradicting yourself.

Hell, whatever. I'm fine. Oh wait, other folks are in pain.

Might As Well

Alright, then.
I guess the actual thing that's on my mind (after erasing a couple of sentences) is the whole thought of.. er. 'if you only had ___ to live' and stuff like that. I mean. I don't know how I am with that. I guess I've been waiting for me to finally figure out what it means to me. You know, kind of like when you've known of a certain famous person all of your life, but you're just not ready to know about him or her? More like when you hear a 'fact of life' or someone's motto and you've always thought that you knew what it meant.. Hell, I guess now is the time I finally delve into 'you only live once'. I guess knowing that I'm going to make it in the end isn't enough, right now. It's like I'm kind of preparing for the day where I find out I only have one day left. I guess I don't know enough of the world for me to find out about a last thing that I can do right now. Anything I'd want to do anytime soon, I'd rather just see develop. Not the process, just ugh. Processes make me run away, actually. So, no. Like, I know how easy everything is- within reason.

Honestly. It still confuses me. Yeah, I realized that I can actually get "confused". I guess I have to just look at it how it is.. "one day to live". Well, I could be breathing mold right now and that's deadly. I might, honestly, pass away soon. Unexpectedly. How much should I worry, thinking that I might actually just expire within months? It doesn't really bother me a whole lot, until I think about all the stuff they'd find in my notebooks and other writings. Ha, really, I'm just thinking about the many people who already have no idea what to make of the things I have had to say. That's a whole other story, maybe. I don't claim to be misunderstood or nothin'.

Ok screw it. "Current mood: Embarrassed.. Mortified.." I don't know. It doesn't matter what causes these things and how I resolve them or could have resolved them. I know that there's got to be a point where you can literally just redeem yourself. I shouldn't just take several tiny, yet huge, embarrassing moments and just say "ok, I'll just make jokes or movies about them so they won't be so horrifying to remember." I really, really have got to talk to these people about these ambiguous moments. I've got to find out, or let them find out, what can be reasonable in these situations. Of course, I won't be able to track down other folks, but if the things have just happened.. then I should say something. How can you really just be honest when it comes to people who.. matter? Really, on that note, how does one really at least try to get someone to do what's right? Wow. In a way, once again, it feels like heh being a puppeteer, for lack of better metaphors. Then after thinking, it's back to how I felt before the summer. Where several people are making me up. I'm several peoples' puppet? Nah, whatever, that's all stupid. This is stupid. Really stupid, all of it. This is actually just very stupid, and I couldn't be having a better time talking about how stupid this actually is.

I'm typing. What in the hell could that attribute to me doing what I want to do? I'm holding back, by the way. A lot. Because I have additional ideas, that aren't able to just be typed. They're the things that you see after you read this that's kind of "oh, that must be what caused him to do this'. Stupid. I've been losing brainpower, recently. That can literally, literally mean few things. Willful loss of brain? Me? No, actually, never. Ha.

This is awful. Nothing's awful, just this is awful. I know a person who just did the stupidest thing I can think of. I know him. Heh, to say the least. I know a person who has actually given up on things that they just "don't see happening". I know a couple of folks who just won't do things, and seem to wonder why they have to continue with their regular lives. I know a guy who I know I can't fully trust, but I really don't even care. Yet, I instinctively care. I know someone who literally will not make sense to me at all. That's what I know right now. That must be what's on my mind. This is ridiculous. All over the place. Where have I been? How do I know I haven't had this same mind-state before? This is probably how I felt, back in January, where I had not previously been "typing".

All year, I've had one set of things on my mind. I didn't say a word. Thought I said something, but no. Now, I've come back from Chicago, uttering quotes that I didn't think I'd remember. Now I'm back in a business-man state of mind. Now I'm trying to "network". That conflicts with everything I was, most of this year.

I think the wind is right.. something's in proper alignment ONLY for me to be able to safely say.. "I'm confused." And since context has to be an issue, it's literally just thoughts about real life. Real. Real. Real. Life. Li-li-life life. NOT the "real world" that older people warn you about. That's still nonsense. Alright, fine. I am unable to cope with the embarrassment, practically because I'm not talking about it. So, no use.

Also, I am unable to go from this to doing what I want about "one life to live" stuff. It wouldn't work. I'll still try. But really. "Being alive is so weird."

Bonkers

Yeah, I finally went cuckoo. I know, I know. No proof. That's fine. It's probably just a bodily function, then. I'm just wondering how many jokes I'd make about myself once I was declared a loon. I continue to claim to not have anything to do with the whole "insanity" craze, but that's kind of a tough one to shake off. I can picture my eyes literally opening up to the fact that I actually do nothing more than confuse folks. I actually do "take the long way around things". So, I mean. I need to calm down. Not "who's to say what's normal?" or anything, but I need to stop stopping in the middle of everything I say. Do I need to stop?

I've just been going back to that phase of getting confused and terrified by regular people. Yeah the whole "people aren't real" thing, but yes regular people. I just get the feeling that people are just being hardcore versions of people. Laughing and enjoying things- no I am not "disgusted" like it sounds, but I really really really feel uncomfortable. I am really really really convinced that everything is set up. Now, I know my limits. I know that I am able to steadily believe that "people don't exist" and "most people are fake" and "some people are background characters" and "aw, I love people" and "hate 'em" and "hey" and "some people are bad some people are good some people are smart and some are dumb" all at the same time, and it all makes sense... but now I actually feel all these things at once...? Agh. No. I'm not trusting anything. Yeah, it's got to be a chemical thing.

This may be the first time that vacation will actually do me good. I think I now know how to be ok with not working on something. Heh. Contradiction: it's 5 am. I'm clearly not satisfied. It's clear that there's something going on in my system. It's also probably the cause. I already know what may just be the cure.

Earlier, I sat and tried to perfect my miniature "bio". Heh. "About Me." Not here, though. The public one. That's another thing that's been kind of making me uneasy. The fact that I was even re-writing it was just not legitimate. I was actually trying to write about myself. To compete. I basically wrote it, about 5 times. I beginning to obsess. I thought about how I inherited a need to get everyone I ever met, together. I wanted to keep in a part about how I accidentally help people. I listed words that I have been described as. I tried to insist that I need the opposite of an ego boost. Then, I realized... Since when do I describe myself? I am revealing the "secret". I'm thinking two things at the same time. Of course, I'm not trying to have a bunch of questions asked about me... well actually yeah I'd prefer that to just being plain wondered about. Fine, never mind those. What I ended up saying was something about how anything that I begin to say that might be "personal" I just turn into nonsense. Then that just makes me "interesting". It's ridiculous. All by accident. All entanglement.

Actually had a conversation, in a dire moment. Heh, I sat to a meal in a fast-food restaurant by myself. I lost it because this was my actual visual manifestation of somebody who has given up completely. I cringe at the sight of a lonely middle-aged woman eating a sandwich. That is my personal ultimate horror. Later I found out that the man who was sitting behind me was actually basically insane. You know... yelling at folks. Still, when I left I just happened to see, heh, Zane. That's as far as I'll go. His full name just drove me even more mad because of a certain character in a book. We talked, more than I expected. Just like all of my other friends, he has had time to think. Ugh. No way these words were coming out of his mouth. I've had this conversation with each of my close friends. It's always new.

I mean. I am actually getting "blind-sighted" by stupid little things. If you're on my side, don't get offended by what he said- "you seem like a college guy who likes to hang out and party, but when you go home you probably write poetry and cut yourself." I literally had to jump up and scream when he said that because it's kind of true. For someone who has just met me at this point in time, yeah. I couldn't figure out the "cut" part, but it actually put the rest of the statement in some "real life" package. This is how I must seem. That's not so good. That's the story of my life. New Year's Day, I'm optimistic and I try to reason with situations and I have faith in people. The moment after my birthday, I distrust people and I don't believe in situations.

So this year, I was just knowingly a ridiculous trying-to-impress "interesting" man. One of the things that you become out of shear avoidance. Now, I am just a wacko. Great. All of that. Then just this.

Oh yeah, I forgot. Situations where I am sure that no one ever has a problem with. They seem freshly complicated. Grant's family still has my camera, and he's in Brazil. I was supposed to get it from him before he left, but then he said his dad would drop it off with me. Fine. Apparently they still need it. I'll let them borrow it for a bit longer. I have no idea why, but I can't fathom any response to any...anything. I don't get it. I literally don't understand what any of that means. Plus, there's a public information problem that I literally do not.. ugh. This is new, I've never been able to not understand...not remember... It actually "hurts"... like something inside me is being given an "indian burn" er whatever. You know. Wringing. I feel dried up.

I'll just rest. No, wait.

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.

Hunt

It's ok now. The first thing that happened this morning was a mutual stomach hurting. Dizzy, Nick answered his phone to find out that someone had found his wallet. None of us had any idea it was gone. There's the first mission of the day. Collect wallet.

We stumbled to his car, a nice day outside, and got inside. We were first welcomed by that demo disc that the man from last night had given us. We drove to the location, easy as that. Passed the house and went onto the campus of Kennesaw Mountain High School to turn around. There it was. His wallet was just on the hood of some pollen-covered truck.

On the ride back to my home, we listened to things that can only remind us of an earlier time. He dropped me off. Mission over. I finished up the video I had been working on. Still not sure of its results. Eventually time passed, and some other plot tried to thicken. 2;15 instead of 2:45 sure. Oh well.

And Tonight was the first time I had ever watched a movie two times in a row.

Three different days, practically. I hadn't even mentioned Justin's false hope and Mark's new hope. Those will unravel.

Such a long day put into those words. Amen.

Tore

Thus ends what may have been the last of the House-Buyers. Not really. House-buying is new. It's years in the making. I don't like my own personal labels. Except my own. Now let me get to my real mood.

Upset or disappointed or suspicious. Whichever, there'll be some kind of stupid realization at the end so I can just go "see, it's all on purpose." Right? I might as well say it now, to expedite variation. I can remember loads of words, see? So suddenly, it's after midnight. They take it all away from you. All of them are taking all of it from all of us. The house owners have got any potential buyers by the balls. I'd hate to revert back to rebellion, but is it not the case? Sentenced to hell under our own personal masters? Water coming in, to taunt me. Bloody tears, in some other country. Those who wrote the bible, practicing their satire. Some divine literary competition, while I face shopping cart poetry. Tortures of the damned, yes. It's a rite of passage to get exactly what you ask.. around. A pre-requisite of those who were tortured, in order to kick back and just say "ohhh" in pure pleasure. Bit by bit, in order to keep away the actual previous final destinations. From prison to slavery.

The letter. "i can not deel with this any more and unfortinitly i am going to run away" or I assume. Some childhood experience. Somebody else's family. Still, children have the right idea. Pack up one or two of their favorite toys, a package of candy, and the clothes on their back. That'd get them farther than they'd think- which isn't saying a lot because their expectations dive in about an hour.

Still. It may just be heat confusion. Won't stop the tragedy, though. I don't want to introduce myself if I have to include the sounds of "twenty-" or "thirty-" and so on. Only a little over a year to do so. Ok, fine. Maybe I just won't be able to do anything with the actors and folks over 80. I'll just have to keep finding newer interesting people to hope to one day meet. What, in the hell on earth, is the true Hard Work? Where exactly is that one point where I finally, by myself, just let loose and start something and get it done? I thought it was "put me in a room, give me something to do, and close the door." Am I still supposed to be practicing? How long to practice before one accidental good thing happens? How long will I have the same mood?

Sleep can be a reward or a waste of time. It depends on who's giving it to you. I'll bet, eventually, that'll be the same case with a lot of things.

Did you know you're not allowed to change your tragic flaw? You're supposed to take the fall for anyone who was born with that tragic flaw. See? If you're the one who is showing the other people who have the same destiny as you, then you have to show them how not to have the same destiny as you. At least you'll be a hero. A tragic hero, again.

I've become.

Twenty Eight Too Late

Finished that library book that got wet yesterday. Strange bump on my arm that may have just been a bite. Always hard to digest when reading about bites and bumps on skin. Just found out what I look like. Monster-ish. Haircut, probably. I'll get straightened out. I guess it takes a while.

I mean, no matter how I fought it, I did eventually get some type of used to Windy Hill. So, it'll be over one month alone. Things aren't settling yet, though. Imagine the wake-up call today. "Your job has brainwashed you." Don't you think I know? It's my brain, of course I know when it's not doing what it should. This was earlier today when Grant and Fide clearly called me on speaker phone, while on the bus to some field trip. I won't find out until later, what the trip was. All of my answers to their questions were just that drastically normal "uh.. yeah?" and "...sure" that show not much of a character. They thought they saw a huge change in their friend. The least likely of anyone they knew to fall into some mind-numbed normality. Without a doubt, the least likely to.

In what became their little experiment, their antics were pure exploitation. Me- exploited. That's the only unlikely thing I cared for. Behold. The transformation into... "normal." Literally, literally, a reverse-freakshow. Still, little does anyone know, I actually am very basically immune to brainwash. That's all I can say about that, really. I should mention qualities of myself, when I'm trying to mention qualities of who they think I've become. Really, it's not that much of a mantle anymore. Once you've gotten past each conversation you have with yourself when you're of a certain issue. "Let Me Live My Life Man."

Common theme of today- just the ever-presence of the word "life." It's either all just life, or it's all just words. Not only one thing and that's it, but I mean the big IT is either all of it or it's just what people think it is- both in addition to what it turns out to be. All of the things it turns out to be. I think I might've thought, the other night, that "is" is probably all there is. Past, present, future types of folks. Not that whole thing. Actually.

"...tomorrow is taking too long, and yesterday is too far away. and the reality of what you believe in begins to bind."

The quote eventually leads back to the issue of trust. The first topic from the first moment of New Year's Eve. Who knew? If anyone wants to trust in me, I wouldn't disappoint.. eventually. No, get this- either it's the whole "nobody is spending that much time thinking about you." or there actually are those situations where generally anyone shows any type of interest in anything I do, and I kind of set them up for something good- but then I just disappoint. I just wonder if anyone else has this character trait about them.. Still, this year so far, one example of trusting in me happened and that's why I'm here. This house may just be a "promised" land. No, I'm not putting too much importance in myself, that's actually what happened. I was supposed to come back and fix things. Hah. Undo that little knot that the House-Buyers got themselves into. Really, I don't think anything can stop the House-Buyers from just feeling righteous about buying houses eventually. If I didn't know any better, it looks like the way to actually Buy-A-House is to start out with Renting-A-House. A little training wheels game.

This group of friends was just House-Buyers. Like the Hope Diamond. Each previous owner is cursed, and probably rightfully so because of what a diamond actually is. That's half what my mom said. She said the coincidence is just in their bad energies. I'd add on the idea that if I absolutely had to just own a diamond, I can literally just see a cartoon image of myself throwing it over my head and behind my back into the mud. The same as gold. What on earth is jewelry? Too easy. Still, how House-Buying is like the Hope Diamond: you'd better make sense of your goals quick. What could you be talking about? Again, for myself:

"You'd better make sense of your goals quick."

There. House-Buyers. A House-Buying situation. Over.

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.

Keep On Going Further

Back cracks. "This doesn't exist until I put it on the paper."

Laundry, then scouting for some "we buy golds." Not really, just the one in the mall. Felt bad for some reason, but we got a check. Yeah. If we get messed up, then oh well. Turns out, I'm not greedy, though. Good to know. Oh and before that, we sold 2 dvd's. I got $4.38 store credit. See, not too bad. What I was expecting. Finally deposited that check, and ok should stop talking about money. Just the case.

Heh, since no one else'd find it interesting, I kind of have to mention that leprechaun I saw yesterday, peeking out from behind the corner in the one gold place we went to. Now just one of those nights where I watch interviews. Sorry, but today was just more moment.

That's enough.

End of the Woro.

Alright, so I think I'm letting one trait of mine take over the rest instead of balancing it out? I've just been talking in 'life LIFE LIFE LIFE' terms. Just the ability to say "life." Ah, but to grow disgust in the ability to say words is the calling card of a cynic, kind of. In this case, it is.

We're just kind of debating the ability to be incredibly aware of the infinite amount of things without just completely losing all humanity. I don't mind. I'll disagree again later on, I'm sure.

Anyway, I could say nothing happened today. Just an incredible amount of detail that echo against other days. Or the other way around. How today and yesterday involved Chili Peps and Bittersweet Symphony. Hm, this morning seems like a long time ago because of the whole "bad rap music videos that went viral" thing. I guess that double-date went fine. I request no detail.

I talked to Grant, and we finally discussed the whole tension about all those pictures that come up, basically. No progress, probably. Anyway, I did the first step in pitching the idea of having that next 'secret' Cool Winners show at Kennesaw Mountain, as a picnic deal. I wanted to do another Graivdiggo when I was in a good mood earlier. Then I combined that with that confidential idea, which I just remembered was confidential in the first place. Not really confidential, I'll hint to it.

Then, moments later, my mood changed for the day. Ha, horoscope. I found out that Tash had gotten me a job interview at Life Grocery, tomorrow. I applied last year, and I'm actually kind of "bummed" because I actually took the time time yesterday to apply at two different places I would like to work at specifically because of the fact that they sell DVD's and music. In parallel to the last couple of conversations I've had today, I guess it'd be hypocritical of me to excitingly answer those "strongly agree" questions in those applications last night and then to just feel differently about how I'd act in a work place just because I'd have to be around vegetables instead of movies and music. Barely hypocritical, they're different things! It would be valid of me to have an entirely different appearance just because the scenery has changed.

Then of course, what I mean. Started off with the "cynicism" motif, then moved on to 'quotes' and on to just plain words. All kind of a cycle. Just be ready to explain. And repeat.

Amazing sandwiches today, though.

Hint

I am just now realizing that today was supposed to be a bad day. Oops. Well, it started off pretty action-packed though. Yeah I see it, know. Ha, the prototypical 'bad' things happened today, and I just kind of ignored them. Not really 'bad' things, but tiny yet negative enough to just accept its existence without it hitting any soft spots things. My throat feels constrictive right now. I'm supposed to eat bad tomorrow, though. Not my fault.

I guess today didn't have the same thing as yesterday. It's wednesday, too. Wait. Ha, it's wednesday. One of those weeks where a certain person starts appearing all over again. Plus since today was planned to be a 'bad' day, then some things might have been domino-effected into the weekend. I'm prepared, though. I'm just ready to get the hell out. So, if I'm doing this daily routine I need to keep my parascope goin' or sendzone.

Kind of the edge of a cliff type of thing. Oh yeah, I was supposed to look up some things. Maybe that will be my productivity for today. Gah I sound like a class of 2011er. Even if the specifics are renegade.

Paces Ferry.

Whose Is This

This was probably the day I was just kind of dropped off at Fide's house.

Nobody did anything, and we tried to find something to work on but nah this day didn't happen.
We ended up doing a photoshoot. I mean. At least it's something. I almost had a movie idea.

Not like nothing happened, which explains the post-date, but it's just a few more words so I can finish this sentence.