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Thursday, May 10th, 2007
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2:13 pm
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"Hello?" Irritated, studying.
"Alan?" Who else?
"Yes, what's up?"
"You know how we were going to Grandma and Grandpa's on Sunday?" His Alzheimer's is getting worse.
"Yes....are we not now?"
"Well, would you want to go with us after your final tomorrow instead?"
Fuck no. "Uh....why?"
"Your Grandpa had a heart attack this morning, and dad wants to get there as soon as we can." His heart condition had never been fantastic, and he and Grandmother drink until they don't feel feelings at night.
The plane tickets? "Are you driving?" Who is Grandpa?
"Yes, you can't change dates, dad says, and they were just his flier miles anyway." Those could have gotten me away from here, anywhere. Lovely. Long, seething pause. "Well?"
"I'm coming over to do laundry so I can have things to wear. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"
"Whenever your final is over." Whennever I want.
"I'll call you when I'm done, then. See you tomorrow."
"Love you, good luck." I'm sure you do, and I don't need it from you.
"Bye."
Stone or sympathy? Everyone dies, but is it his time yet? Father drinking tears of gin and rum, face like a plank of wood, pale instead of rosy pink. Maybe Mother will show you what empathy is, after all this time. Maybe you'll even notice.
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| Thursday, March 1st, 2007
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12:40 pm - Smoke and Sililoquies
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She died last month. Understandable, given the circumstances. Sixty three years with a cigarette between her fingers. Her children were shocked even given her inexplicable longevity. I stalked into the living room, now piled with kleenex. Mother's eyes were red and puffy, blank and filled with sorrow. I stared, gave her a brief hug and left, consenting to attend the funeral. Was Mother devastated at losing her own, or that she was left behind? Or was she so crushed because her own children will not mourn her as she and her sisters have theirs? Will she crawl to the cross for comfort now? So cold.
I don't mourn. Or if I do, it's so carefully masked even I don't realize it unless thought goes into the process. Even then, is it what it is or simply a fabrication to convince myself (my self, hahah do I even have one?--saying I and possessing an established sense of self seem miles apart) that empathy is possible? Her cigarettes left her fingers and jumped to mine. I'll keep her here as long as I keep lighting up, or so the story goes. Don't forget.
I told myself I started smoking to think. Think about anything, though usually about myself, the life I live, the life I want to live, evaluate my distressing lack of emotional investment in just about any given subject (narcissism anyone?). After nearly a month I had gathered enough, but thoughts kept coming. Intruding, if you will, breaking the blessed silence I so enjoy. Usually an endless litany of self recrimination, punctuated with a certain three letter word that plagues me now, still, always. A single syllable that keeps me up at night, perpetuating indecision, lending merit to doubt (because my answers are never answers), solidifying paranoia's dominion on my interactions with others. Why can't I stop?--there it is hahah.
My first rip on a bong was a few years ago, but weed has finally established itself as a staple in my life. A bong and a line and I forget to think, or maybe I remember not to. Some blotter paper under the tongue and it's all inconsequential, irrelevant; I can fly. I think about losing my mind often, not psychosis or schizophrenia but simply losing the ability to process what happens. Everything is an escape of this cursed cognizance, the drugs, television, books, class, friends, all so I'm not along with my thoughts (but that's not really alone is it?)
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| Saturday, January 27th, 2007
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8:17 pm - But...
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I was making my way to class the other day, taking a different route to class thanks to lack of time constraints, when to my dismay I discovered it was some sort of kindergarten field trip day to campus. In what turned out to be a nearly colossal misfortune, my path crossed with the young kids' as they exited their buses. Wading through seemingly hundreds of jubilant waist-high obstructions I noticed that my eyes had begun to mist over. My pace turned from leisurely to nearly frantic as traitorous tears threatened to fall. I considered the implications as the high pitched voices laden with anticipation and wonder drifted behind me. I grasped several possibilities, and I was furious.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to collapse my knees and weep openly. I wanted to look at the sky and shriek, "What happened to mine?" I wanted to rage against all the injustices I have imposed upon myself. I wanted that innocence back. I wanted the unquestioning nature and the ability to find happiness in anything. I wanted the ability to be whimsical the way only a child or royalty can (is there really that much a difference?). As I sat down to lecture I remembered that I've always wanted to be hard, too.
I've always viewed stoicism with a certain sort of awe. I'd like nothing more than to believe that I have it in me to be a stoic person. A hard person. It's woefully clear that the literature I read and the characters I take a liking to have impressed an image of what it is to be hard, and I try to emulate that. Rand al'Thor, Anasurimbor Kellhus, Cnaiur urs Skiotha, Dujek Onearm, Ganoes Paran, Kalam Mekhar, Croaker, Sleepy, Jaime Lannister, Ned Stark, and Karsa Orlong have all left their marks on my character, or at least the character I allow others to see. In hindsight, it becomes painfully obvious that what I chose to emulate was not stoicism as much as an unhealthy detachment from emotion of any kind. Stoicism is as unattainable as ascendance.
Often I describe my personality as sarcastic and little else. But as I drift along the turgid stream of my consciousness, I wonder if I even allow myself a personality at all. It implies that I present myself as a person, but do I do even that? Usually not. My conduct at social functions is similar to that of a forgotten shot glass. A good deal of idling, a healthy dose of emptiness. Would I rather be the kid who broods on the rare occasion he attends, but usually would rather stay home and read than deal with people, or the insecure kid so unwilling to take a chance that he hides between covers of any literature available? I know the answer to that particular query. I needed to put these thoughts somewhere--I can feel my sanity slip the longer I hide them.
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| Sunday, January 9th, 2005
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7:40 pm - I'm back?
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Well I just decided that I'm going to update for a quick rant. Recently, there have been some strange calls to my cell phone. It always says "Private Call" where the number or contact should be, and the person always greets me with, "HEY!!! HOW YOU BEEN?!?!" despite the fact I don't know the voice, and I tell him as much. The response is always, "Fuck you bitch" followed by a timely hangup. Today, I got a call from some idiot 12-year-old sounding kid who asked for some name I didn't know, and sure as hell didn't live here. He didn't believe I guess, proceeding to ask for the name twice more, and then asking me how I had been doing. Taking into the account the events of the past few days, I was more than pissed off, and angrily told I didn't know him. He said fine and hung up. I'm wondering where this is all coming from, and how the hell these fucking douchebags got my number(s). More than that, I just want it to stop as suddenly as it came. Please.
P.S. If anyone who reads this doesn't mind the long distance charge, give a quick "fuck you" to (520) 615-1033. Kthnx.
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| Thursday, October 7th, 2004
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10:30 pm - Lost money and Staples
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Well, I got my staples out on Tuesday and I went back to school (finally) on Wednesday. It was a little hard, but my classes weren't that far apart from each other, so it was okay. Today almost killed me. I was so tired, and I almost fell asleep in my second class, and again in my third class. I was so tired that when I got home I took a nap till I had to go to work.
When I got to work my boss paid me, and I say "great" and go out to get some food. I come back, check my pockets, and I have twelve dollars (he had paid me sixty). I couldn't go back and check if I had dropped the extra fourty (for you slow people, the meal cost eight dollars) because my boss had left before I realized I was short. So some cocksucker is forty dollars richer at my expense today. We get paid in cash, and that's the first time I've had a problem with it. Argh. Well, you can't win em all. So there's my update. Blah.
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| Thursday, September 30th, 2004
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10:10 pm - The Culmination
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Well, I'm aware it's a few days after the fact, but the operation was a success, obviously seeing as I'm still alive and I do retain control of my right leg. I'm so pissed at myself right now. I don't really know why, but all I know is that there's a slew of things I should be ashamed of myself for, and I don't care to name them all right now. I need to be able to confront my own shit, but I'm just too lazy. Lazy is what I tell myself, but I do have a feeling that underneath it all I'm really scared about what I can and will find out about myself if I do delve into my own soul. Other than that, I'm doing well, other than the fact that I have twenty two fucking staples in my leg, haha.
The last concious thought I remember having is, "Lord, protect me." Over a fucking leg operation. My prayers and thoughts can't be centered on people who actually need them, but I have to think about myself when I drift off with the anesthesia. When I woke up I was spluttering "thank you" to anyone who would fucking listen to me. Dammit, why can't I just be stronger? I come out of my operation and I'm saying thank you left and right like some little bitch. My leg's healing well, I don't need painkillers anymore (I took some last night because they make me tired and I wanted to go to bed, another weakness of mine that is becoming all too apparent) and I can walk without my crutches, granted I look like a retard when I do.
On a somewhat lighter note, I get to spend a bunch of money on magic tomorrow. The new set is being released, so I ordered a bunch of boxes from the guys who own the shop I work at. It'll be fun to open everything. I did real good playing tonite, it was almost like school was back in session for my poor friend. I think I lost two games all night. It was fun. I'm only slightly regretful about the makeup work for school. It'll be a fun weekend. Heh.
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| Sunday, September 26th, 2004
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10:05 pm - As time grows short...
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Well, as you all who read this journal know, I'm having surgery tomorrow. I have to be at the hospital at 7:00 for surgery prep, and at about 8:30 should be the time I go under. The doctor said I shouldn't really be in much pain at all, and hopefully I won't be after it's all over with. I've got a prescription for some Vicadin(sp?) in case I'm in any pain at all. Anyway, if it's not too bold of me, I'd like to ask for any prayers from you all. I'd be extremely grateful for any. Wish me luck.
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| Thursday, September 23rd, 2004
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9:47 pm - The Time Draws Near
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Went in for my pre-op appointment today. Apparently, with my problem, there is a small chance that I could develop a malignant type of cancer, or something. Fucking doctors being vague with their terms I couldn't care less about. Anyway, I went in to get an X-ray about that and I probably won't have to worry about me getting fucked with cancer. That's good. I'll get to take some days off of work (very good) and some days, probably the week, off of school (that's the best). I'm really not scared at all, because I've already had this done, and that procedure took about five hours. When I told the doctor that, he literally gaped. He said this one would take an hour and a half tops. I'd be outta the hospital in the same day. Reassuring, to say the least. I'm not scared of the pain, I've grown up with pain all my life, and I've almost always stoically gritted my teeth and sucked it up, and waited it out. I'm sick of it, and I'm ready for some of it to go away.
On a different note, I'm kinda scared. I bought some cards off of E-Bay about two weeks ago, paid the guy the same day, and they still haven't come. I'm more scared of my twelve dollars getting ripped off then the surgery. Ahh, greed. I hope they come soon, the dude has a 99.6% positive feedback rating, so I hope they come soon.
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| Thursday, September 16th, 2004
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9:36 pm - Confirmation
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Well, the surgery is on the 27th. I can't wait. I'll totally regret the release of the new Magic set, but maybe I can bother a friend to bring my half-case to my house as I'm recovering. Eh, I'll take what I can get. I'm so excited!!
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12:29 pm - nothing important
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This is pissing me off. I always critisize people who bump their bass way up and listen to rap music, because I hate rap and I hate too much bass. My subwoofer is way too high, and my bass is too high, so I can't listen to music till I turn it down. Unless I fall to hipocrasy. Boo.
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| Wednesday, September 15th, 2004
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8:20 pm - The End of Me
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Yay, it's settled! I'm getting surgery soon. I'm not sure of the exact date, but it's soon. Which is good, because I'm tired of not being able to walk properly, go up stairs properly, put weight on my right leg, etc. The doctor made it sound real easy so, God willing, it should be a relatively easy operation. I can't wait! It'll all be over soon.
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| Wednesday, September 8th, 2004
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10:23 pm - I hurt :(
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Well, I suppose now is the time to inform everyone of my major flaw. Surprisingly enough, I do indeed have one. They're these things called "osteocondromas(sp?)" and they are little spurs of bone that grow to the side of random bones. While the bone gets longer, so do the spurs, except they grow out, not up or down. They interfere more and more the bigger and bigger they get. I have four on my right leg, and had four on my left about six years ago, when I decided I should get surgery. It was only on the left leg, because I didn't wanna cart myself around on a wheelchair.
Anyway, when one of said bone spurs decide to flare up, they "catch" either a muscle or a tendon over them and sometimes it hurts so bad I collapse. Imagine going to take a step and the muscle/tendon (I don't really care about biology) is forcefully halted. It comes to a stop and it feels like it tears. Well this can go on every time I stand up, any time I put pressure on said leg, etc. for weeks. This just started on Sunday and I'm already beyond pissed. It infuriates me that when I get out of bed in the morning I do it wrong and it hurts so bad I wanna fucking cry. And it makes it worse that there isn't a goddamn thing I can do about it. It makes my already short temper even shorter, and I can imagine myself breaking something in the house soon enough. I hope it doesn't come to that.
I'm tired of hurting all the time. I'm tired of being scared to get up from class, and I'm sick of walking with a fucking limp all day long. I just want this bullshit to be over with any way possible.
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| Wednesday, September 1st, 2004
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9:00 pm - Down with crappy music
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I've decided that that new Yellowcard song, the one where he says he's screaming his lungs out again, the Taking Back Sunday song, in which the phrase "I've got a bad feeling about this" is uttered no less than 12,745 times in the four minute song, and that shitty Dashboard Confessional song from Spiderman 2 are all worthless pieces of ass. I seriously succumb to nausea every time I hear one of those songs. It's sickening how this drivel is so popular, not only among females, but guys like it too. That just scares me.
Help save my tasteless generation, Maynard! Haha.
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| Monday, August 30th, 2004
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10:16 pm - Seesaws and Circles
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What do I want to do when I get out of high school? Something with history, most definetly. Other than that, I really don't know. The only real things I've given any thought to and that have held my interest for more than a few years have been the military and history. Maybe I could be a military historian?... But then again I really have qualms with my generation. I'm borderline disgusted with the lack of pride and patriotism displayed by people I know. I'm half inclined to join the Army to show that there really are in fact people who care for the country. I'm aware you don't have to military to love your country, but for me, I believe that the best way I can show my gratitude for the country is by risking it all. Anyway, I suppose I really have to give my future some thought as opposed to half-assing my way through it. I'll end up happier that way, of that I'm sure.
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| Saturday, August 28th, 2004
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9:58 pm - Mountain Dew
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So I'm sitting here trying out the new Mountain Dew flavor, Pitch Black. To say the least, I'm very dissapointed. It's not nearly as good as Livewire or the original flavor. I'm on the verge of disgust.
Other than that, not much is new. School has returned to its old routine of kicking my ass. Stupid homework. Stupid procrastination and it being so alluring. Well, that's all for now.
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| Sunday, August 22nd, 2004
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1:52 am - Yay for being alone
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I just got back from a horrible night of poker. Poker's done with, I quit. I'm tired of fucking friends. I'm tired of dealing with pieces of shit who think they're too good for me. "Oh yeah, we didn't call you because we know how you don't like people." Maybe there's a motherfucking reason for that. Get off of your fucking high horse and look and listen to what the fuck you idiots tell me. It really makes me sick how I subject myself to was essentially could be classified as torture with my "friends." I'm sick and fucking tired of people thinking they're above me, and I simply shouldn't have to ever deal with it. Fuck them. I've never needed too many people in my life, and they'll find out how true that really is.
[/rant]
I'll get around to emails later.
God fucking Bless.
current mood:  infuriated
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| Wednesday, August 18th, 2004
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10:01 pm - Updates
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I reall don't have anything to write about, except more complaints as to how much school eats my time. Hmph. So I may as well let the 1-3 people who read this collection of grievances(sp?) know that I am in fact alive. I have a pile of math homework that I prolly won't end up doing unless I can jack it off of someone to look at. I'm too bad at math to teach myself the stuff we have to, and my teacher fucking sucks too much to teach us anything. Luckily I have a friend who's really good at math and helps me out. Alas, I wish I didn't suck so much at it. But what can you do? Study, I suppose, but fat chance that'll happen. Well, I suppose I'll have to just sit around and rely on material items to put meaning back in my life. Heh.
Maybe I'll be a writer. Hmm....I might wanna start working on it...
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| Saturday, August 14th, 2004
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10:27 am - You've managed to bring me down, too
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Man, school's really a drag. There goes my day, which I would much rather spend talking to people online, or even better, playing video games online. Holy crap though, I forgot how many good looking girls there are in school. I really wish a lot of them weren't stupid materialistic whores, though. Maybe I'm just too picky. I have to work today. :|. I have homework that needs doing, and I'm still not sure if I can convince myself to do it or not. I wish I could just be able to come home and do it, like a machine almost, but I can't, and I've never been able to.
So I decided a few nights ago to drown my school-related sorrow in purchasing music. So I bought a few CDs, including A Perfect Circle's Thirteenth Step (but it was one that didn't have "The Outsider" or "Weak and Powerless" on it, so I was a little mad about that.) Tool's "AEnema" CD, and The Offspring's "Smash." I love the Tool and APC, still haven't listened to the whole Offspring CD but I like a lot of the songs it has on it, knowing that via the radio. Well, I just called my boss and found out I don't have to work till 2, so that means maybe I can do some homework before I leave. If all goes well. I'm out for now.
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| Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
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10:12 pm - School??!?!
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Well, today was my first day of school. No need to say I'm regretful that summer is finally at an end, and I'm more than pissed at being at school every day of the week. Holy crap, I hate it. My mystery class teacher is a complete douchebag who thinks he's funny, when in reality he's not at all. He has us doing this knot thing, which may as well be Chinese, because I comprehend them both at the same level, and lucky for me it's homework! Stupid asshole. If I didn't have a good friend in the class, I'd most likely drop it. Thank the Lord this is my last year in this hellhole. I just can't care enough about being back in school to do my homework. I can only hope this attitude changes, because I could use some good grades.
School sux.
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| Saturday, August 7th, 2004
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7:30 am - STOP GAMBLING
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Okay new mission for me: Stop gambling every other night! As happens far too often, I got sucked into another poker game. I think my game is only good when I'm calling someone's all in. I was shortstacked till I made that decision, and ended up walking away with 83 dollars from 20. Not bad for a night, but I'd really like to be able to stop gambling. I feel like I'm some sort of poker junkie, having played for at least 10 dollars 5 nights in the last 7. I've already decided that I'm never doing to a casino, just in case I get wrapped up in betting.....say.....everything. I wanna be able to stop just to keep myself in check, like a safety buffer. I don't play for much now, but that could always get much worse. Everything can escalate from one point to another. I just have to hope this doesn't before I'm able to stop whenever I want to.
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