Sunday Morning Thoughts 11.27.11

What are you doing man?!? You sit down and get all of this gusto and then you open the goddamn internet. What the fuck is the matter with you? Have you no ambition any longer? Are all of those positive traits and dashing good looks just going to waste? Shit man, I expected more from you.

Well there I go again, just disappointing people. Its bullshit and it’s annoying and it’s all my own device. I do it to myself for reason that I can only assume are just as idiotic. So consumed by lack of action that its almost sickening. You know what? It is sickening.

That is of course, just how I’m feeling about it now. It will change, I have no doubts. And when it does, I’m sure I’ll be all bewildered and caught off guard because I don’t pay attention to a damn thing that I ever do. It is becoming just this meaningless motion that is boring the ever loving piss out of me, so I can only assume it’s doing the same for you.

I am really letting myself have it tonight. It’s probably because it’s night. If I kept track of when I wrote these, I could bet you a dollar I don’t have that the more positive and sunshine bullshit one were written before I had a full day. The ones that are dark and bitchy and sad, but not sad in the sense of heart wrenching but sad like pity. It’s pathetic. There I go again. I don’t think I’m feeling this song either. Change? Change. Well actually, the song might be ending at this point. Yeah it is, I’m just going to keep typing and there it goes. Next please.

I skipped around, but I think I’ll never learn. I guess I should go ahead and apologize for that now, although I don’t imagine that it will make it any better. But I really am sorry and I figure that saying that before anything happens would be more… effective? I don’t know. I suppose that I’m just setting myself up for failure with that mentality. I think it will go terribly, so it does. I wonder if I even have that kind of power. It’s a little farfetched.

I keep wanting to check, but I know I shouldn’t. It’s like I’m waiting for something that isn’t going to happen. I am waiting for something that isn’t going to happen. Look at how sad I look. I know you won’t and I don’t blame you. It must be pretty lame watching me struggle along with this for so long. I don’t even know why I’m doing it.

Alright, I know that’s not true but I wanted to see if I could just say it. I know why, but that’s none of your goddamn business.

I do have to be doing something about emptiness. Just in general, you know? It’ll keep me from getting bored because god fucking knows what I’ll do then. Nothing spectacular or cool, juts something that when you see you think to yourself, “Really? That?” and all I want to be is cool. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. I wanted to be lost in the freedom of coolness. I wound up a dweeb. You win some, you lose some. I’m starting to… learn from that? I suppose it’s growth, in some way or another.

The thing is, I could very easily go to sleep right now, but I won’t because I have to wait it out for just a bit longer and see if something drops from my mind that will reveal some bold and brilliant light and with that all things will become clear, for myself and many more, and my soul will finally find happiness.

That is a ridiculous and quite stupid thing to be waiting for. It’s fairly stupid to wait for much of anything. You go, or you don’t.

But what if I went? What if I there everything I had out there and got nothing?

Well… I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to go somewhere else eventually. And you should probably eat and sleep and drink in the mean time.

But what if that’s not enough?

It won’t be enough. No one ever said it would be. That’s you making stuff up again. Not once did anyone ever say that it was going to be enough.

Now that’s shit because there are plenty of people who have gotten enough. They tell other people how to live these rich fulfilled lives.

But do you believe those people?

Well… I guess I don’t.

I didn’t think so. You my friend, will never have enough. You will most likely never fill the emptiness completely. But hey, you won’t get too bored. Unless you want to be bored. Either way, there it is. And with that, I’m off.

 

A Guy Who Fights Too Much and Fucks Too Much

I’m debating if I should just let my buzz fall away, or if I should reinvigorate it. I could and to be honest, I won’t be able to again until I go back to school. White people problems.

That’s all there seems to be now. Trivial little nothing problems, only I don’t think of them as nothing. I think of them as these huge plaguing things that are impassable, but they’re not even there. They’re not even real, none of it is. It’s all just made up. I made it up. You are part of my creation. I do hope you understand that. Despite all the power you think you wield. It’s all within my control. I just don’t know how yet.

It’s a bummer not knowing stuff. I honestly don’t know how people do it. See! There I go again! Not knowing stuff and saying it’s someone else. I don’t know anything because there isn’t anything to know. It’d be something though… to explain why I can think so much of so little. To figure out why this life is lived the way it is and it’s unchangeable and unyielding. It’s not. I could change everything. So could you. We all could, we just don’t. We never do. Even the things that we think we change, we don’t. I doubt there are many of this species who have seen change that completely defies everything that is and makes it into what is not. The list may be limited to those who were ever killed by a nuclear bomb. Now I know that seems like a lot of people, but compared to 7 billion it’s nothing and that’s only the people that are alive today. There are thousands of years before that and they all died, but they still count towards this. It’s not about currency, it’s about longevity.

Still, I’m not changing the world at all. At least not at the moment or maybe I am. I may very well be doing such a thing and am just dumb to it. I’m dumb to many things. As are you. As we all are. We are pretty dumb for the most part. There’s a few sparks here and there but beside that it’s a lot of nothing, just like the sun. Just like the planets and stardust and black holes and old ladies playing solitaire and some kid crying and somebody getting laid and someone dying and someone being born and someone being in love and someone getting drunk and someone driving somewhere and the guy delivers papers before anyone else is even up and the guy who is actually up and sitting on his front stoop smoking a cigarette watching the guy deliver papers but remains unseen because of how unlikely that it is that he is there now. It’s all really unlikely. It’s unlikely that I ever met you. It’s unlikely that I haven’t met anyone else. Actually, that is a bit probable considering that I’ve been working on keeping that way for one sixth of a dozen cycles around the sun but hey, I’m not a quitter.

I say that but it’s a lie. I’m very much a quitter except of course stupid habits. I can’t quit smoking cigarettes, for example. I commit to, how should I put this, negative things? I can’t be certain if that’s the word but I like it a lot better than unhealthy. People would look down on me if I said my habits were unhealthy. Don’t get me wrong, they are extremely unhealthy but I’ll do them just the same and would like to not have to feel bad about them. I’d rather feel bad about other things. Things I shouldn’t feel bad about, ya know? What can I say? I guess I’m a rebel.

I think my parents are in bed, so I’m going to go investigate the beverage situation. I’ll be right back.

Only beer. But it is good beer, but then again, what beer isn’t good? Well grains and hops and barley aside, I’ll get back to where I was. Which was?

Oh yes! Nowhere. I can’t be anywhere because there is only nothing. Silly me. Well I don’t want people to start getting the wrong idea about this whole nothing thing. I don’t want you to think that I find life meaningless, although I do sometimes. Nothing isn’t a bad thing, do you know what I mean? Here, let me put it to you like this. If everything there is winds up to be only nothing, then we’re all free. Nothing is holding us back. Nothing is slowing us down and nothing is in our way. Sure we can all come up with examples where there are things in your way, but that’s only if you see those things. You can choose to see damn well anything that you’d like to see. It really is that simple and you are really that powerful. At least I am, or I could be.

Right now, I’m not so much powerful as I am distracted. I can’t focus on anything. I guess I should try to focus on nothing. That may prove to be a better use of my time. Like just there, I didn’t do anything but stroked my stupid little beard for a bit. Then I rubbed my hands together. All of this while I could be typing. I guess I fear that this is going nowhere, but I should hope that it’s going nowhere. I can’t set these expectations, not because I could be disappointed, but because then I’m closed. I set my mind on this one thing and I can’t see the mind fucking boggling number of other things that are going on, or could go on. So much that could be is ignored and so much that is waste is worshiped. It’s insanity.

Actually I guess it’s closer to sanity. It’s really a crutch… sanity. It doesn’t do much and just limits you to this thin little track of life. You’re sane so you have to do this and do that and follow the path, but what other way is there. You’re outnumbered and if you step to far out of line. You’ll either get tossed back in or be removed completely from the list. The only way to beat it is to succumb to it. It’s tricky but it can only be temporary with the thought in your head the entire time of this master scheme that you need to come to fruition because everyone needs it. Bear the burden while waiting for your chance to step forth from the masses and emerge as the savior who will bring this big and bright and beautiful change to the entire populous.

But I’m just a dreamer. I dream all day and get nothing done. I dream all day and yet you’ll say nothing to me. I’m hoping that I stop caring, but that may be a ways away.

Ignore This Too

I tried to read what I wrote yesterday. I couldn’t. It was too boring. It was painfully boring. I’m such a drag. I had an idea to say something and it left. It seems to be leaving all the time. Not that it has ever really left, because it hasn’t. it just seems to be perpetually leaving. Never quite going, but getting further. Then again, that’s just temporary. I’m just impatient and mildly psychotic and yet so boring.

I’ll have to cut it out since there are expectations otherwise. There seems to be a rush of nice things that I ignore. I’m ignored so I’ll ignore others. A cycle of ignorance. Maybe I’ll start war over something stupid. I can’t imagine that it’s that hard. People seem to do it all of the time. That bitch Helen.

My desperate search to be cool is turning up rather subpar results. I mean it would only take a little bit to blow shit right out of the water. This body is stupid and gets tired and the mind is even worse and does even less. There’s so much that can be done.

Fuck it, I’m sick and tired of this. I’m sick and tired of writing about it and feeling bad for myself and wasting away the best years of my life. Every year is the best and I keep acting like their getting worse. I’m going to conquer this fucking rock. All of it, it’s mine because you know what? I am done with being ignored. I’m done with feeling powerless. I tired of feeling weight and I’m tired of feeling small.

If you stand in my way, be warned that I will be merciless. Well I suppose that’s not really true, but fate will fuck with everyone which makes you and I no exception. I think that’s the thing, that we all blame each other for fate. Which isn’t even that unreasonable. Oh look at my indecisiveness. Look at my struggle for stature. Listen to the church bells sound amazing grace. Listen to the car horn blare and the people shout and hoot and holler. Listen to the tires of the wet road. I wonder if any of these cars I see will crash. I wonder if that could happen to me. What if all of this talk of fate leads to nothing more than me being some statistic?

The tune has changed on the church bells. I don’t know what it is, but I shouldn’t really call the bells. It’s just a recording, I’m pretty sure. It stopped anyway. The sound has died. Something someone else would have said.

I’ll have to get up out of this chair now, if I want this to mean anything.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 11.20.11

Maybe this is my body crashing. Maybe it’s the mold. Maybe it’s all in my head.

There’s no way of telling what is real, but then again there never really has. I remember that the dreams I had the last two nights were related. They weren’t the same, but they were part of one big story. It’s a dark story. I had to kill in this story. It was to survive, but it happened. It was a hostile place. I didn’t like it, but in that world, that’s all there was. There were messages that the TV tried to tell, but they came through poorly and no one listened. There were things and people trying to kill each other. I was alone for the most part, from what I remember at least. It seemed to be permanently night.

Then in another dream, I was talking to someone who doesn’t seem to want to talk to me anymore. I felt cool because their outreach was ignored by me, just to get even. I wouldn’t actually do such a thing of course, but it’s nice to think that I have some ability to stand up for myself.

I seemed to be a hit this weekend anyway. Compliments and congratulations and I even got hit on a lot. I was out and about and exhausted myself and that’s just how it goes. Most of my stuff is still in boxes and I have oh so much to do. This crappy feeling isn’t helping much either. I was hoping that sleeping would just fix everything, but I need more I guess. I need something because I’m so needy that  it’s almost disgusting but it’s really only natural and human. See the problem is, I don’t want to be those things. I don’t want to be normal or human and I should be doing everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Even though, the pursuit of such things may just cause them to happen anyway. In fact I may be less that human now. I very well could be because I feel very much like something that isn’t well.

Either way, I only have to fight for a few more days and then I can rest. I’ve been at this one place since August 8th. I left here once, to go to Manhattan for an evening, which was deceitfully nice. I guess in the long run, that trip has only cause me more trouble and in turn, trouble for others.

I’m sorry if I can’t make any one happy. I make these choices in hope that something good will come forth, but it never does and I know very well it won’t. Now, is that because the bizarre working of the universe creates such a thing, or is my own? Do I make choices that destroy myself? I do, I know I do and I’ve known for a long time now.

This all very small and will mean nothing someday. Or at least it won’t mean then what it means now. Everything will change. It’s only natural. I will grow old and grey and so will you. Our youth will fade and slowly but surely will be left with only our character and that may very well go to shit too. All that beauty that you have will become nothing. Someday I could wake up feeling this terrible, only it will be every day and every day I’ll have to come up with a good enough reason to get up and go on and keep on keeping on. It’s scary, but I assume by that point not much will scare me. I’ll be hardened by the course of my life. I may not have a heart then. I may not have a soul either. I have both of those now, but they could go away. Everything can go. You’re already gone… for now.

You could very well sneak back in whenever you’d like. I may try to put up a fight, but it will fail. I may not even have to. It may never happen again despite how much thinking I do about it.

I wish I felt better because there was so much that I was thinking about saying but now all I can do is whine about how I don’t feel good and how lonely I am. It’s stupid how I can feel so lonely when I’m surrounded by people most of the time. But we are all alone. We always have been and we always will be. All I’ve ever known is what’s in my head and can only guess at the others. I can become close and start to understand things about other people, but I will never know. They will never know me either. I can try to explain, but I know from trying that it’s no use. I can hardly come up with the words so how would I expect anyone to ever know? But I’m sure I’m easy to figure out for some people. I may not be as complex as I like to think I am.

You Don’t Even Know

What’s up 4am? It’s been a while. It’s been a while since it’s just been you and I, just chatting away. So let’s chat 4am.

I had all of these thoughts all day and now that I’m here they seem t have slipped away, of course. It’s just a condition. I try to forget one thing and in the process forget everything else. Don’t think of a blue elephant. See what I mean? But for real, you are my blue elephant. A blue elephant that wants nothing to do with me, but so be it. Choices are made without me and that is just that. Either way there are things and doing them should be an option or priority or something like that. Swept under the rugs, my dream sit and collect dust… and mold. Hahahaha… yeah about that. I still have to pack my stuff to move.

I don’t know if situations just find me, or if I unconsciously seek them out. I assume it’s both. I don’t exactly dodge anything with all that much effort and you can toss resolving it right out the fucking window. I don’t think I’m going to fail science though and that’s good.

I wrote jokes today. I wrote jokes yesterday too. I should tell them to someone. I should tell them to strangers. Strangers will hate someone who is not funny. It’s scary but people you don’t know are not forgiving. Then again, so are people you do know. Some people you know don’t even give a shit about you. To some people, you’re just a piece in their game. Then again, you’re just a piece in mine. A blue elephant, if you will.

I wasn’t drunk enough to talk about existence tonight. I don’t know if I’ll be drunk enough tomorrow either. I imagine I won’t be. Still my destiny awaits me. Just this for now and maybe some more when I have something to say.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 11.13.11

I’m going to have to start going more than a few days before I sulk back to the feeling of nothingness that seems to be unavoidable these days, weeks, months, years. It’s not like it’s going to be over any time soon. Nor will it get better. Life is only going to grow more difficult and tragic as it goes on. You can’t dodge it and the whole of our existence is just trying to find ways to accept and ideally embrace our mortality. All the people I know and care for and think about will die. Yes that means you. It means that you and I and your sister and my brother and Danny Di Vito will all die.

We won’t breathe anymore and slowly our bodies will decompose and be soaked up by the living sacred ground. We’re plant food, but I imagine the flower that will grow from you will be beautiful. Maybe a nice little rose decorated with thorns and clichés. Pleasant to the eye but the very touch can draw blood. I’ll be a dandelion because I’m not really the flower type. Or I’ll be the kind that is sold for a couple bucks for a whole bunch by the Arabian guy on the street corner. The kind a broke kid gets for a girl if she’s a pretty actress or something like that.

Every moment I don’t take a step forward is wasted. Wasted like a kid who isn’t as good at drinking beer as he would like to think because he had too much and puked and then passed out at like 8pm. Identity issues are really nothing more that excuses. They’re excuses to wait around and hope that everything will just get done for you, or at least that’s what I use them for. I make excuses to myself all the time to be able to justify inaction. It’s absurd but changing it seems to be a temporary thing. Maybe a few days I get that gusto to march ahead, but it’ll just turn to nothing if I drink too much or watch a movie or something that makes me think about something and slowly but surely that thought will bum me out and it’s say goodbye to motivation.

Man, who listens to this crap? I mean seriously dude.

Anyway there’s more to do today that has to get done. I’ll have no time in which to do it, but that’s perfectly fine. I need to do things all the time or I may go mad. I hate the hesitation in my every thought and move. I’m stuck because I have so kind of bullshit hesitation in everything that I can conceive of doing. I think and think and think and think and yet nothing ever seems to come of it. There could be so fucking much and there is so little. I mean, it’s not that little, but it definitely could be bigger.

I should grab a cup of coffee… yeah. Some good old caffeine to jolt the system. If only the complaints led to anything but the constant gnawing at the edge of consciousness does nothing. Thoughts build and grow dark and freezes on contact until there is nothing. Like there is now.

I hate that. I hate that feeling of complete shit when there is bullshit in the way of everything. Simple ideas and tasks cannot be set forth because of something stupid. It’s infuriating! Fuck! Now I’ve got to wait on this person to tell this person something, but I could have told them both sooner and I get mad because I fucked up and now have to deal with those consequences and that makes me pout and shit my pants and do nothing at all that is productive and if I want to just keep this one sentence going until I feel that it has run its course then so be it, it is my choice and here I am making it.

All these words and yet nothing is said. If this were a painting, it would be stick figures that were painted with the fingers of a six year old. There’s probably a booger in there. Doesn’t feel to reassuring but what ever does? What is ever said that is really of any true comfort? We all still die, and alone. Your final moments are the full concept that encompasses the idea that is your existence. It is not anyone else but you. There will be parts featuring other people, but you only see them. If you see anything at all, who knows? You could be killed instantly or could be too zonked out on dope. It doesn’t matter where you get it, street or the hospital, it’ll fry your brain. What do 96 year old women and hardcore drug addicts have in common?

I wonder which I will be? Addict or old woman? Either are fairly likely. But I suppose this has run its course and it’s time to do stuff. I just wish I was cooler about this shit.

Yours Sincerely, Pato Dooley

You hear that? That’s the sound of my morning beer. I have six hours of rehearsal up and I need to start feeling Irish, so I’m getting an early start. Pato can have a drink or two, probably a cigarette too. He stopped smoking pot when he was his brother’s age. He’s never been in love, although he’s been with a few women. That hasn’t always gone too well either, but that’s for a whole bunch of reasons.

He holds a whole load of burdens in his heart, which keeps him grounded to these ideas. The work in the rain and ol’ digs and the perpetual boredom and monotony of the same work every day that never will get any better because he’s an Irish dog. He is the scum beneath their feet and would be glad to be rid, except he’s a hell of a work and since the can get away with paying him nothing, it’s a fairly smart business choice.

He had a dream last night. Or was it me? I can’t be sure, but I saw you in the dream. You were walking by me and I looked over and tried to yell. You looked at me, but nothing on your face changed. You looked for a moment and then looked away and then walked away. I had almost forgot that I had that dream. Pato reminded me of it.

Either way, I’ve got this beer to finish and a shower to take and some teeth to brush and some cigarette to smoke. I’ll see you later.