Sunday Morning Thoughts 5.22.11

Smooth jazz on the radio and a mild temper in my heart and so goes the first week of summer. I’m employed by the man, but it’s not all that bad because there is plenty of dissidence among the parts to this machine and as nigga Roy so boldly claims, “I don’t get paid enough to give a fuck”.

But with work comes work and with work, I suppose results will eventually reveal themselves and if they don’t, well I suppose anything is always better than nothing, even if I don’t really believe that. I shall gain some of that all too necessary monetary bullshit and maybe take some of those woes away for a time, even though I know that they are doomed to return. I’ve been making a few small strides to repair and make my body back to what it was, and I feel better because of it. Just a little bit of movement a few days a week does wonders to re-energize this pile of meat wrapped in such pale skin.

But as for nigga Brian, he just stares out the window hoping to find little Buddha’s in the clouds and only winding up with toads. I’m sure that the toads mean something but for now I don’t feel like looking for symbols. For now, I’m just working on getting back to square one or some other way of saying that I’d like to just tear all of the crap away from my mind and soul and just see what is there and what always has been there and what always will be there, without all of the muck blocking my view of what is true to me and what is truly me, even if it is something I hate and despise because if it is then it’s not because I cannot hate what I am. I suppose I could, but I shouldn’t and I don’t think I do because I know I don’t. I don’t hate the person that lies under all of these clothes and skin and whatnot. I hate circumstance and feelings and all those things that I can’t control, but that just comes with being a human, and a sad human at that.

Still I find nothing wrong with being a sad little being because that only proves the nature of my soul, which is one of compassion because only when you care and value and love can you be sad. Sad people create beautiful things, often times out of pain, but they’re beautiful all the same. So I will do my best to not waste the sadness and concern and worry and try and make something of it in the hopes that my dreams will someday be met.  I can’t say for sure if they ever will, but I can say that there is nothing left to do but try and try and hope you never forget me. It may be vain but let’s be honest here, I’m a little vain. And by a little, I mean extremely but that’s just how I am, for now at least and maybe forever but there’s only one way to tell and that’s to let life take it’s course and hope that someday the daydreams just become part of it all, at which point I’m sure I’ll dream up new ones. I feel that a person without dreams is not a person, and a person who dreams only at night is on their way to losing that humanity that we all love to talk about loving so much.

So for now I say goodbye, until I type something else for you (which is probably no one) to see and wonder. That’s all I really want in this life, is wonder and to wonder and make all things full of wonder or at least find wonder in all things. Sure, I get scared in my imagination. I get scared that you’re gone and you may very well but such is life.

I was thinking of stopping writing because I got up to 666 words, but since the rapture did not occur, at least to my knowledge, I will refrain. Maybe it did though, and this is hell and we just can’t notice it because we’ve already been here for so long. Or perhaps this is heaven or nirvana and we are all just to vain and full of wonder to notice it. Who knows?


Sunday Morning Thoughts 5.15.11

I’m back home and so begins my months of the dharma bum summer scheme. I lost connection with a very important person and to be honest, I don’t know if I could have gone any longer the way I was. My year of darkness is over and I have no more time to waste. There’s so much on my mind, so we have best start the dive into all of this or else be consumed by thought and question.

To start, the school year is over and that means I am half way through this little experiment called college. So where have I come? Well upon clicking through Facebook pictures with stoned thought, I’ve realized how far I’ve come and how much of a blur it all seems. Despite my bouts of depression, I shouldn’t belittle the things that I’ve done. I’ve accomplished so much and met so many people along the way. But as I marched into the Javits center with cameras flashing, I felt a bit like a rock star which is always nice. Still with the class of 2011 now gone, I think about the impeding and relentless pressure of time. I suppose I’ve been dodging dwelling on this, but I’m growing up. No longer will my three role models be my peers and never again with all the memories of the last two years be. My friends have graduated and though it breaks my heart, it also inspires me. One is going right into the work force with a suit and tie and responsibility. Another is staying for more school as he works his way through his master’s. The third is packing his bags and heading off for California to chase his dream of acting. I have learned so much from those three men and if any of them are reading this, you know who you are and I just wanted to thank you. You have helped make me into who I am and have guided me in ways that neither you nor I can even begin to truly comprehend.

I have to go to McDonald’s today to talk to the hiring manager, which will hopefully lead to a job. Yeah, I know you may judge but the golden arches will hire me for the few months that I’m home so I’ll mop floors and flip burgers for a few bucks. I’ve done worse for less. There’s that and there’s me trying to get back into shape and take a little better care of my body. Working out used to keep my mind in pretty decent shape, so it really wouldn’t kill me to make a bit of an effort.

And with all the free time I’ll have, I shall fill with my passions. I will write and jam and read and grow because if I stop growing, I’m dead. I’ll go out into the woods and get lost and maybe find something that I haven’t seen in so long that I won’t even recognize it. I want to create and have something to show for it. I want to start throwing my ideas into the world and hope that someone appreciates them. I want success and I want to feed my ego because the ball is in my court, not that it wasn’t always because it was, but now the pressure builds and I must rise to the calling or fall behind to a life that I would consider a waste.

And of course, no Sunday morning thought (even though it’s Monday) is complete without some sort of cry for my muse. I think I’ve come to an understanding that may be wrong or may be right, as all things I understand may be, that tells me that desperation is not attractive. I know, I know, it sounds crazy but it’s true my friends. So to you my muse, I plan on becoming the man I once was, and really have always been, but better. I know that as with the pursuit of all beautiful women, I am not the only one looking to gain your attention, but I do know that I have done it before and I know how I did it because it was exactly the opposite of what I have been doing. So be warned, despite anything that may have discouraged me, I will chase you even if it cost me my soul because I would gladly give it all to relive the bliss that was once there and I shall not relent in my effort to share that with you. I’m not going to fear failure (even though I do) and I will not fear disappointment (even though nothing scares me more) because there are few things in this world that will actually sooth my heart and mind and I will not abandon my life to darkness if I have any will left in my body.

I know I will be depressed again and I know I will die, but I don’t care and neither should you. Fear is the only thing that keeps us from taking over the world and I’m tired of the hopelessness that creeps up when I grow too frightened of life. It won’t always go my way, but I can make some things happen and others I can’t but I’ll be damned to the deepest pit of hell before I let you completely slip away and become lost in a life of quiet desperation. And that is that, my friends

Sunday Morning Thoughts 5.8.11

3:59 am

And I sit for the second night in a row, in front of this screen after tossing my day away to celebration in order to drown the complaints that sneak into my mind. So this life thing stares me in the face again and I just beg for a cigarette to occupy my mind. I was fairly wasted earlier, but now I’m sober. Sobriety always seems to give me one thing. It’s always easier to put those things out of my mind when I’m not intoxicated.

But dig the ramblings of a drunk little mind that wonders what to hold on to and what to let go of. I wish I wasn’t such an ass all of the time. I mean it, even if no one believes me. I want to help, but that never really pans out well. Actually, that’s not really true. I mean, I fuck up an awful lot but people seem to always be very willing to forgive me. Maybe it’s because I’m cute.

Some jackass on the internet who was pretending to act like he is capable of thought called Kerouac a dumbass and tried to justify it by saying that he can relate to him. Listen up tampon, do me, you and everyone else on the planet a favor and shut your little fucking mouth, especially when you’re talking about my idol. You obviously have no clue as to what you are talking about so you had best just stop trying to lie to yourself and everyone else because that sadly glorious man died from that which made him into what he was and that is something your microscopic little fucking brain couldn’t even begin to come close to understanding. I think Twilight is more at your level, shithead.

Honestly that is most likely my problem. That I keep all my madness to myself. I’m hiding my mind because I’m ashamed of my thoughts and poor old Jack would be very upset with me, if he could see me now. Even when I write, I hold back. So what it bugs the shit out of me because I don’t know whether you even like me anymore, I don’t think I’m all that unjustified. But I’ll still try and play the gentleman (which is stupid) because I don’t want to blow any chance that I might have (even though I’m sure that I will). Everything goes wrong in my head and when I see how things are, I just panic and close up and feel like I can’t compete. And maybe I can’t. Maybe I’m really not good enough, even though I was once convinced you believed otherwise.

Ok, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to stop here, just for now and pick up tomorrow. I’m not going to get rid of what I have here, because that’s a terrible habit. I want to start understanding the permanence of words.

12:46 p.m.

So I woke a few hours ago and like every morning when I wake up, I don’t get out of bed. I just sit and think about the dreams that I’ve had and I’ve now forgotten. I think and I think and then I think about thinking and then the thought of thinking too much comes into my mind, so I sit and dwell and think about that for awhile. And then in the fashion of the last two days, I pick up a book and read for a bit. I like that new plan of attack.

But I left this last night in the hopes that something far more substantial would emerge from the seeds that I left to grow. And I’ve got nothing, but it may be something. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

There. I think I’ve said that I don’t know enough times that it has finally managed to lose its meaning and I now must be forced to at least lie and act like I know something. So I’ll tell you what I know. I know that what there is in my mind and what there is in the world are two different things and that is bullshit because they can be the same if I want them to be. But ha-ha, that my little sentient beings is the trick. I don’t want my head to match up with any kind of expectations of the real world. I want my mind to be this beautifully elaborate paradise into which I can escape whenever I please.

Now, I and anyone else who reads this crap knows that my little brain is far from what you’d call a paradise, but it’s not about what you call paradise. If my thoughts were all perfectly in harmony with each other and never caused me pain, then I would grow bored and create my own pain. Pain is beauty and that is why you’re so beautiful. I mean think about it, I’ve created so much pain in my desire because it’s beautiful. Or maybe that’s not right. Maybe beauty is pain. Yeah, that’s more accurate. Because you’re beautiful there’s pain. Either way, it’s me who’s feeding the fire. You’ve done a rather stand up job of trying to send me away and I’m sure that’s not easy. Or maybe it is. Maybe I’m just a thorn in your side and nothing more. Maybe I annoy you and you hate me.

Still, I am this person and that is worth something. Quite a bit actually. So I should do something with all of this life, but I sit and type away. It’s become the only thing that I really know anymore and that’s fine. I just need to do all of this and that and all the other things that make me smile and giggle. And with that, I say go fuck yourself. But only if you think Kerouac is a dumbass. You don’t talk about a tortured soul like that, least of all one of the grandest and most mad souls of all time. He is my king and I will fight a nigga about this. Besides, using Kerouac to get girls is my shtick.

And I Feel Fine

So it may seem strange to some, but I don’t know if I find that much comfort in the news. I’m fucking scared. Shitless. I have been so caught in my bubble of life and I forgot that there’s a whole world of people out there. And people are tricky little sentient beings. They anger easily and a lot of them are really fucking power hungry. People shouting USA in the streets makes me scared that people might just stop thinking. They might stop asking questions and become obedient little subjects.

I saw a bunch of posters on the train from Jersey predicting the end of the world on May 21st of this year. What if it did? Where would my thoughts be? If I found out I and everyone else was going to die and there was nothing I could do about it, what the fuck would my tiny little microscopic existence even amount to? I was talking earlier today about immortality, but what if everyone else dies? Death and thinking about it and whatever thoughts would come from that. I’m lost and I’m falling and I can’t even trust what will happen tomorrow.

But… me worrying about it doesn’t make it go away. Anything can happen, especially within the interactions that take place among human beings and me being all bummed and scared won’t stop the entire world I know from crumbling beneath me. I, and anyone else who dare to join me, should just pay attention to our world and act accordingly. I mean, zombie apocalypse? It could happen… we really don’t know and I assure you, I am no Ving Rhames, or Woody Harrelson for that matter. Regardless, I had recently been thinking about writing a story involving the end of the world. I don’t know if the one I had in mind will really work, but maybe with a little more work and research, I might be able to get something. There is really no good reason that I can’t write a fucking novel besides the fact that I am a lazy piece of shit.

Good, now backtrack for a moment. That last sentence says “lazy piece of shit”, but that is not what it originally said. I typed out “lonely piece of shit” and then erased it. Then I thought if I was on a typewriter, it would indefinitely say “Lonely piece of shit”. But isn’t that closer to the true thoughts of the writer? I believe that is the hiccup in my plans of being a writer. That, and my shitty computer keyboard and the fact that I never really learned how to type, so my style is sloppy and unforgiving. I know, but the passion remains the same and if I know one thing about myself, it’s that if I even think that I truly like something, I will not relent in my pursuit of it.

Someone called me a dick today. I’m sorry. I am, but I’m sure that doesn’t make you less mad. You did make some good points and I appreciate that. But I read too much Kerouac to say that I could even try to change who I am. I really don’t intend to hurt anyone or anything of the sort, but that doesn’t always stop it from happening. My mind is too far out of my own grasp for anyone else to really understand it at this point, myself included. Look, even now I got so easily off the topic of the end of the world and now I couldn’t tell you where the fuck I’m going with this.

Where am I going with this? I put the Smiths on. I feel like it could symbolize something, but I couldn’t tell you what or why. It’s a good song though. A delicate somber tune that pulls a bit at the heart strings, if you listen to it just right. But it doesn’t mean anything. That’s what I say, but I’ve been wrong. Everyone makes mistakes; just sometimes you can make mistakes that involve other people. You could make a mistake that involves the entire planet. Essentially, you could do that with the entire universe. You could also do something good or nice. Or for that matter, you could do nothing at all and just watch, maybe get a little drunk and laugh. I think more people will end up doing the latter when it comes to it, myself included.

But these are my thoughts on the end of the world, as it stands. Keep your eyes and ears open boys and girls and don’t forget to keep you hands and legs inside the vehicle at all times. You’re all going to die, so there’s no point in losing a limb before that happens. Get your money’s worth at least. I don’t know if any of this is really worth much, but I blame it on the times that I grew up in. Completely unique time for the species. We’ll see what us big people do in the face of the destruction of our world.

Anyone one who got the LOTR reference gets bonus points.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 4.10.11

It’s not morning… it’s much later than that. I woke up a half an hour ago and don’t remember much past the early hours of this afternoon. Upon waking up, I was mad but now… I seem to have settled. Maybe it’s because I’m still decently trashed and am comfortably resting at my desk, with all these words falling before me from my mind.

But let’s be real for a moment today. What happened to today? I couldn’t fucking tell you. I don’t know, I was just upset with how I don’t have what I want in my life, so I had some shots with a man just as lost, if not more lost than I. So my falling mentor and I drank away all our woes, but they still followed us, and bombard us still. You still haven’t told me. Really?

But I’ve enjoyed what I have gotten from today, and what I still may get. Let’s talk about what once was. Ahhh… hometown being mentioned in a song, well Poughkeepsie at least. Yeah that’s right, the Avett’s are good enough to be able to not only fit a word like Poughkeepsie, but also have the consciousness to be able to appreciate such a place as Po-town for its ability to create so much and yet so little.

But I’m dying. I’m dying for you and blah and blah and blah. I hate how slow my hands are and that they can’t keep up with my mind. I hate how shitty this computer is to type on.

Ok… so I walked away from this for awhile, so we’ll call this part two. I’ve sobered some and vented some pent up tension from my ever wailing soul. I still don’t know what may happen in the future, but I know I’d like to try for a few things. I’ve been angry, but really for no reason. I can’t let small and stupid people get to me, especially when they intend to. Come on dude, you’re a little better than that. I’m talking to myself so don’t get confused.

But I talked to a sweet girl about things that used to be unspeakable. I thought at first it might be strange, but it’s really not. At least I hope it’s not. I fell right back into it, I’ve just conditioned myself so far to the other way that it’s just feels in almost in an indescribable way. It’s not a new feeling, but it’s been so long. I was choking the little romantic inside of me, just because that’s what romantics do. I’m a bit dramatic, ask anybody who saw me Friday. Or today for that matter. Two time blacking out this weekend… one of them was before the sun even went down. Kerouac meditation, I like to call it. He was my favorite kind of Buddhist…. the kind that drank himself to death, a real 20th century romantic.

But it’s no longer that time. I can’t hitchhike because someone will stab me. I can’t buy cigarette with change. I can’t drive across the country drunk and get with wild girls. I’m a 21st century romantic, which is a whole new animal that no one really understands yet. I don’t know how many of us there are out there, I could be the only one. I don’t know if I should reach out and if I should, how? How then? Not with caresses and pretty speeches? Not with plans for the future and rescues from disgrace? How then?

Damn you Miss Julie. Positive note, I now know that I can also perform that show drunk… win. I may be developing a serious problem. Actually, I know I am. I am a serious problem, but I don’t care. This is the most care free and effortless my writing has been in a very long time. I don’t feel that wall anymore. I don’t care if it’s all lies, I really don’t. I’ve been lied to so much already, what’s one more? Life has been shitting all over me. My world may be crumbling, but I don’t care. Who needs it? I can make a new one. A better one.

Because all you see around you can be ours. Don’t be afraid, because fear will just hold us where we were and heaven knows we don’t want to stay there. I don’t and once I tear those walls down again, neither will you. And trust me when I say, I’m doing that for you. I am, because if you knew that girl like I did you would want to tear those walls down yourself. Something that beautiful should not have to be covered up. I won’t allow such injustice to take place.

I guess I just want to be happy, but don’t know if I ever really will be. And if I can’t be, it’s only because I won’t allow myself to be. I know, believe me, people have already given me shit about it. It’s just something I can’t change. I have a job to do. I have to try and make something beautiful happen on this damn rock. If I don’t, who will? And we need it. This entire planet may just kill each other if we don’t step it up and get to the next level. But they need help, as do I. But someone has to make the big sacrifice and offer their soul up to the gods as a bounty and let’s face it, I’m narcissistic enough. I’d like to live forever. I’d like my name to be known, and after throwing up in the bar at like, fuck, I don’t know, three in the afternoon today; I’ve realized that I am well on my way to doing it.

But I digress. In brief, I hope you read this and if and when you do… ummm… ok, I haven’t really thought this far ahead, but nonetheless, I’m sure that things will follow accordingly as they were always meant too. It’s weird… I’m listening to Simon and Garfunkel. It’s been too long. I don’t want to get mad right now, I just want to live.

My mind’s distracted and diffused,
My thoughts are many miles away.
They lie with you when you’re asleep,
And kiss you when you start your day.

Thinking on the Train 3.31.10

So what is it that keeps me going? Why do I drag myself through all the woes and pains of life, experiencing disappointment almost every step of the way? Why do I bother? It’s not like the history of my life really gives me reason to keep trying. I fail… a lot, especially when it comes to that whole love nonsense. I’ve been so drowned in the failed romantic attempts and relentless let downs of girls come and gone, that I’m not even sure that I know how to love. Is it even real, or is it just some made up idea that mankind created so we’ll put up with each other long enough to not kill each other? The cynicism is dripping off of me like the sweat of a fat man going up a flight stairs. I’m so tired of believing in all of this nonsense and I’m sick of wasting my time and thoughts on trying to find it.

Who am I kidding? Myself? I’m no cynic, at least not yet. I should be, but I’m not because for whatever inexplicable reason, I still believe in romance, and love, and all that jazz. I can’t help it. It’s how I’m designed. I’m a lover, not a fighter. I still hold on to the belief of being able to have love. I don’t know why, I really don’t. I’ve been let down by so many, so many times. I’ve broken my heart too many times to count, and yet I hold on. I hold on to that light, hoping I’ll find it.

I guess I really do live for those moments. Those moments when you look into each other’s eyes, and can’t even speak, because you already know what each other are thinking. The way she sings quietly along with every song I play, but hides it if I stop singing. The way I can talk to her for hours straight, and never get bored. How she makes that face when she makes a joke. How she crinkles her nose and shrugs her shoulders when she laughs. The way she pretends to not know me when we’re walking next to each other…. Christ…

I’ve fallen. Damn it. All this talk of you being done with women and you’ll never buy into it again. Hook. Line. Sinker. You’re done kid. She’s got you know and you love it, but there’s a reason for it. There’s something about her. She digs music… the music that you’ve always loved. She’s smart, smarter than me. She’s funny, she’s clever, and she’s got style to her, her own style. She watches 50’s movies and listens to oldies. And the best part is, she’s gorgeous. And she’s so real and there are no walls with her. She can be herself, and I can be myself. And her eyes… oh her eyes.  I could just look into those eyes until the world falls apart and crumbles into nothing, and I just might.

Don’t kid yourself, I live for this, but I’ve never felt it like this. It’s like I’m a little kid again. I get the butterflies and the works. When I’m with her I feel like I’m in the plot of a hip, young, indie, romance movie. I watched her walk away today… it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I think that’s when I knew it too, when her walking away was one of the greatest and yet saddest moments of my life. Great because she is the closest thing to perfect that I have ever seen. Sad because I’m scared someday she’s going to walk away, and not turn around, not come back, and then she’ll be gone, but honestly, it would be worth the pain to just have a few more moments with her before it’s too late because if I let her go now, I’ll never know the happiness I could have with her.

To-do list… sort of

It started out good enough

1. TV Studio mid-term

2. Miss Julie Lines

3. Acting midterm – The speckled band

4. ERS – EVENTS!!!!

5. TV Writing – Ad – Talk to what’s his face

6. Story??

7. Re-write lyrics

8. Write Lyrics

9. Kilt?

10. RA? Anything for that?

11.Ummmm… Talk to someone? Yeah? Don’t listen to Ryan Adams before you decide though… dumbass.

12. Other people to talk to?

13. How about money? Would you like some of that?

14. Quiting smoking? Or at least cut back, and maybe not smoke reds.

15. Gym and that stuff

16. Hey funny guy, stand up?

17. Get studious up in this bitch