And she met some guy

She's holding the camera a foot in front of their faces. I probably couldn't care less about her, but for whatever reason I'm really curious as to how she met the guy. I was that dude with the mental patient hairdo, to this day I'm not really sure if he cared what people thought of him back then. What the hell have you been up to? Probably a lot of really interesting shit, you probably dicked around on your parents' dollars for a while. I hope you two are happy together.

I know this comes off as being about someone I actually know very well or really do care about. Honestly it really was about someone that was barely even an acquaintance.

let the beat build

I think I have the impulse to talk about Kara all the time here because I spend so much time acting like nothing's going on and hiding shit. So on to Kara.

I had an impressively shitty day today, couldn't motivate myself to leave the house at all. I justified it to myself since I was starting to get sick but I know I didn't need that much sleep. Anyway Kara closes Mondays and I kind of just sat around waiting for her to text me or something but eventually I just texted her. She had been getting water from work so I had found a brita pitcher on amazon for seven bucks and bought it for her, and went over and gave it to her tonight. I feel a palpable tension, I guess she didn't really know what I was doing but a text is never that intrusive. I also feel kind of bad because her kidney infection might be coming back which is a major downer. I had a dream a while ago that I was cheating on Kara with some extremely unattractive girl that I couldn't care less about. What's it all mean? Kara Kara Kara Kara. Okay that should do it.

I went out drinking with some people the other night because they owed me from a previous favor. All of a sudden hanging out with these people kind of pissed me off. All the negativity and shit talking which is usually par the course for these people just really got to me. I got into a fight with Kara at work the next day because of it and I'm just hoping it was an isolated incident. I don't want to have to cut off contact with them, I may have to limit it a bit though.

How do you imagine the weather on the day that you die?

Pat Rack

I got to thinking a little bit today about the stuff we accrue over time just living life. It was kind of weirdly reaffirmed talking to nick at Norm's tonight, he was saying that his mom keeps everything and it makes his dad crazy. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this now so I'm just putting it out there. Things are things, and they're nice but do they really matter?

let me put this down

I just got back from class, I'm a little shaky I'm not sure why. I was a little dizzy riding back not sure why. I saw a dog being walked with an expression that got me thinking. That was a non sequitur.

When I unfriended Andy, he talked a bunch of trash about my relationship with dad relating it to Barry. Truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he's talking about. Who knows what I got from my dad, I'm sure he has good qualities. I learned to be a man from my mom. Nature versus Nurture. I'm sure there's some Jeff in me somewhere but my character crystallized from splinters of experience from Michele. I don't remember a lot from my childhood but I very clearly remember being baffled by that odd hair that started appearing on my face. For whatever reason that will always be a formative memory for me, my mom teaching me to shave. Anyways I'm losing my focus, if he wants to have a relationship we'll have one. And I'm fine with that.

writer's block 75 spf

It's when I'm sitting here staring at the gaping white maw of my ineptitude that I truly feel like a piece of utter shit. I'm being hyperbolic but these days writing has been the only thing I've really felt proud of in a while. I'm sitting here right now at 2:15 AM at my crappy apartment watching Malcolm in the Middle and biting the shit out of my finger tips. I have nothing of beauty to put here and that kind of bothers me.

I'm going to call Ursula tomorrow and tell her about the sorta serious relationship I've suddenly found myself in. I don't know how any of this is going to end up but at least there's a ghost of a chance with Kara. I'd love to give you a shot Ursula but you're about two thousand miles away from me. You should know that you're justified in having about ten thousand times more confidence than you do. Here goes nothing.

a Nail Biter

The stark silhouette of a stop sign on slate.
The silhouette never signals to stop, set off.
Silhouettes skewed on slabs of concrete.
Sort out your silhouettes, they can be salacious.
Cast of artificial illumination, light bulbs above cerebellums.
A spotlight massacres your silhouette.

thanks be to ye

I have a small patch of shit on my ribs that leads me to believe I have shingles and I'm freaking the fuck out.

In other more repetitive news I can't figure out what to do about Kara. I'm really sure I'm not exactly her type physically and I use that to sabotage myself at every available opportunity. I do my best to maintain a comfortable distance between us, which is easier because she's fairly conservative when it comes to anything involving her feelings for me. Unfortunately she recently got me Fight Club, and said she missed me tonight. Which is kind of monumental, I really wasn't being cute when I said conservative. Steady as she goes.

Finally, I watched Vanilla Sky again for the first time since it was in theaters I believe. It got me thinking about how much pop culture affects our personalities and how important it really is. What does your favorite movie or book really say about you as a person? What does it REALLY say about you as a person if you've never seen a movie in your life?? I think my taste in anything is really just a means for me to relate to other people in the end.

like a virgin

This is something I've thought about every now and then, for whatever reason I've been thinking about it again. It seems like every year has fewer and fewer magical moments than before. Mostly I would think about it when I would end up working on some holiday that I remembered having a lot of fun on the previous year. The feeling has permeated the rest of my life now though. The thing is, there's really no reason I should feel like this.

I'm going out with my supervisor, a tall blonde karate chick with a fucked up eye. I'm in some kind of nebulous long distance flirty textathon with the best friend of another supervisor. The days blur together like nobody's business, which is intense because I don't sleep a lot. What am I doing when I'm awake?? I had class and work today and somehow still managed to watch the entire fifth season of 30 Rock.

I think part of it might be that I'm twenty four years old, still at SMC, and still at Peets. My life is going to change drastically when I finally transfer after this semester. I really hope that helps, but it's also making it hard to get attached to anything right now. Ya know, that old chestnut.

What happened to the magic? What do I have to do to recapture some of that nostalgia? This could've been more organized but fuck it.

aint no valley low

It's sort of funny, do I enjoy my life as a roller coaster? I was thinking during the movie that I need to get my priorities straight. Sometimes I feel like everything's working in concert with everything else, I hate to say that because of the ridiculous symphonic metaphors in that pile of shit. I always want to bake a cake, as well as eat and digest it simultaneously. I like to think that this class requires more of my time than I deem fair, but that's seriously one of the stupidest things I've ever thought in my life. There are designated times in the school schedule to let loose and have fun. This is not one of those times and I need to make sure I'm on top of my shit right now. Good night and good luck.

Pulp

Our hero finds himself out of breath tracing the curvaceous four oh five. What few colors are left run together. I'm sort of glad I still have my safety net, but the fact that I set it up pretty much means I'm guilty as fuck. This is not where I want to be. Grasping at mossy rock walls guiding through viscous darkness. I'm aware of what I'm holding on to and there are brief moments of visibility, very brief. At some point, I will trip. It's going to hurt. Though it won't hurt me. Well maybe it will. God damn I have nothing to do and this is all I can muster, sometimes I miss my muse.

failure

I don't enjoy failing. I can't believe I screwed up so bad. I'll augment this a little more later, I feel like lying down.

lesser of two weasels

I'm taking a little siesta from writing (obviously) mostly because I'm feeling less inspired these days. I feel like I've lost control of everything, including my command of the English language. I shouldn't have had to leave this morning, I'm kind of pissed about that.

morn

I feel stupidly empty, when really there's no reason to.

God

You really have an amazing sense of humor.

potent potable

I asked your silhouette to give me her elbow, always the gentleman.
I literally ran until I couldn't run anymore (literally?).
Walking back with nothing but the company of gorillas.
Walking is kind of an overstatement, shuffling like the walking dead.
Walking like the shuffling dead.
The gentle caress of a plant on my collar bone.
Suffering from phantom limb syndrome, guess which.
Sorry about your heartache, you inspire me.

what in the world?

Did I actually write this? I emailed this to myself on 4/10/2008:

"it's pronounced 'skeeeezooooors' " stated the anal archer as his slick maple ammunition bore a 3 foot deep 7 inch wide hole in his (contractor's) face. The slender woman found that it was best to keep her feet to herself as the auto sander buffed her digits into nothingness. As deep as the ocean is wide, the canyon enveloped the lost travelers as the millions of tiny shutters closed for the last times. As his foot weighed more and more on the velocitator, the mendicant's bloodied face, which had already been lacerated by a multitude of tiny glass dirks, plunged deeper and deeper into the half-existent windshield. Finally the super model's stiletto plunged through the automaton's left ventricle. First, there was light, then darkness, for without the former the latter could not exist. Born from the shadows, i stood, barooboodoo

GO KARA!!!!

Also He's A Robot

So It's all goooood in the hood. Well not really. I texted you so there's no need for indirect flowery prose to communicate with you. I'm just curious to see how the time apart has affected us. Victoria made some reference to you and Anton getting it on, I'm telling you she's trying to get a rise out of me I don't understand it at all.

I've very recently felt like Mel Gibson in Brave Heart, soon I will be pulled apart piece by piece. Check the tunes.

Gigantic

I feel like something momentous happened today, but I can't put my finger on it.

On Commercialism and Haircuts

I like to front on my high horse like if I had any money I'd donate most of it to charity. Actually though I like to spend money just like everyone else, maybe not to the extent of most people but coming out of goodwill with an armful of shirts makes me feel good. How much better would it feel if it was the Gucci store I was walking out of? There's only one way to find out.

Haircuts. The only facet of my haircut I'm concerned with anymore is how it looks while I'm riding and when I'm finished riding. I need to get one of these soon too.

The Light

You hold a vial in your open palm made of the thinnest glass. There's a golden moth holding on to dear life.

Your Word Choice

I was thinking about writing a short story based on a phrase that came to me from the ether this morning. Then I got to thinking about plot and all that good stuff and realized that it's very hard to write something that no one has ever written before. Something I strive to do when writing above all else, is putting words in a particular sequence that no one has ever done before. I have no idea why this appeals to me so much but I imagine it even harkens back to my nonsensical writings of adolescence. This post has made me feel smart, mission accomplished.

Hop Skip and a

I feel like I'm jumping from rock to rock trying to cross a river safely. I'm not in any danger or anything I just have to keep moving so I don't fall in. I went to galco's with Nick yesterday and asked the owner what the creamiest root beer was in his opinion and I got it. I just drank it and that shit was creamy as fuck! Sometimes I feel like Victoria brings you up out of nowhere to get a rise out of me. She's not stupid and it's always some weird dumb tangent like how you had a curfew or how you were in middle school when she first started going to cacao ("It's pronounced coacoa"). Her new boyfriend came in today and they kissed in front of me and David. David went off for like five minutes about how this wasn't Europe and how disgusting it was and what a sloppy kisser she is. I'm guessing none of that is news to you unfortunately...

Your words are incredibly innocuous yet they let me know you're listening, I'm pretty sure that's against the terms of our agreement (which I neglected to have you sign). I know you're having a good time over there, I'm kinda way jealous as I'm fighting a pretty bad case of wanderlust at the moment. We got nadja to come to big ass beer night and David got me going again with his ridiculous travel tales.

I don't mean to sound demanding but you better not forget to bring me back some Turkish delight.

Thirty

Today is the day of my brothers birth so I will dedicate a post to him today, regular posting activity will resume tomorrow.

It's amazing to me that he's turning thirty. Seems that we were just sliding down the stairs covered in blankets on a makeshift toboggan. He was forced to share a room with me for much of those thirty years, I should apologize for all the frustrated wall punching and controller breaking while he was trying to sleep. For all the times I tagged along trying to be a skater so I could be more like him. We went through a lot of shit together whether we knew it at the time or not. He managed to survive another bout of living with me, swinging light fixture and falling asleep in the chairs. Basically a hundred percent of my musical knowledge in high school was siphoned from my brother. If one of us ever departs LA for any significant amount of time, the first stop back in town is always Lucy's at one in the morning.

I admire you more than you'll ever know, happy birthday Barry.

We all scream

In a moment of weakness I checked her blog where I shouldn't have seen anything new. Five days into her vacation she did the usual post filled with cryptic references to me. I'm assuming things have changed drastically since then but I really miss that medusa-esque muse, is she back yet?

Pendulous

I wrote this on my lunch break for whatever reason.

I'm in over my head again. Pardon my liberal use of metaphors involving the ocean. I stepped in still clueless on the mechanics of floating, you tried to throw me a life preserver and of course I refused.

Then on the way home I felt almost the opposite of this. Like I might have thrown her overboard, which I never could've predicted happening ever. Then again this could all be stemming from a lot of false bravado. Only time will tell... deja vu.

Imma rambling man

You're naive or maybe I'm naive I don't really know. That shit never would've worked in a million years, but then again I have no idea. Maybe it's a defense mechanism? Because I definitely lack one of those. And it sucks.

Only time will tell.

The Real Oasis

I've passed through so many mirages
Parched and sun spanked, alluring palms and wet water
Resting again praying for sanity
Betrayal fell swiftly on unsuspecting camel
Looking frantically for a sign
Trying to climb the horizontal plane
Gripping sand watching it pass between my fingers
What kind of existence is this?
Falling endlessly, sprawled, can't touch anything
This des(s)ert will be the death of me.
Baked alive on the flaky crust
Estimated temperature of six thousand kelvin
He's gonna burn the pie if she's not careful
The icing on the cupcakes is almost ironic
At the epicenter, a lone apple tree, so apropos



still not done...

The desert line is the end of the serious version, now I'm doing a joke version.

Oasis

What does it mean when the object of my desire is out of reach even in my dreams?

embarazoso

So I was at the market just now at around 12:30. There's a ridiculously effeminate gay dude working there. Somehow now there's an even more effeminate gay dude working there as well. Both of them on the register, I was wearing a wife beater, paid all in ones, see the post title.

Revolving

Beacons flashing at each other in the darkness
The luminous moon waning in the heavens
They are Algol
A distant light unites star-cross'd lovers
Enveloped in velvety darkness
A forest aching for sunlight
One star extinguished by the candle snuffer
Just under the radar another is born
To be continued...

I think I'm going to write this line by line.

I'm done for a bit, I don't feel like I did when I started this.

KARMAGEDDON!!!

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF KARMAGEDDON HAVE RIDEN UPON US AND RENDED THE 405 ASUNDER!!!

Distract

I don't need any diversions right now. I don't need to replace one vice with another either. She said that when I drink all I do is cry, but in my defense she was doing the same damn thing. Also I kind of disagree, I feel like we had an okay time otherwise we wouldn't have been talking for so long. I recognize that as a true statement though. I inadvertently had a couple beers with Juan last night and just instantly wanted to wallow in my own misery. I'm going to play tennis with David now that I've wasted this day off... I really want some candy too.

Gonzales

Just a quick anecdote (I kept putting antidote here wondering why it looked weird) before my dumb poem. Gigi came in today and while I was making her drink she said she saw me the other day on main street with my girlfriend. I can't remember how I responded but it was extremely awkward. Now on to the main event.

Honey fumigation exterminating taste buds.
Clinging to dear life on the tiniest licorice strand.
Submerged in the drink, choking on Turkish saltwater taffy.
Head bobbing up & down grasping for peach ring life preservers.
Bloodshot thirsty eyes scouring for sour gummi sharks.
Jagged sugar coated bluffs with beckoning handhelds.

I feel like it's incomplete but we'll see if I finish it.

iyi yolculuklar

I think I finally talked about you too much tonight. I've talked about you to people that know you very well and people that have no clue. To people that know exactly what it's like to be in my situation, my exact situation. Et cetera et cetera. This sounds callous to the uninitiated but I'm murderously ecstatic to have a month where I don't ever have to smell that heavenly scent. Where I don't have to look up and see you standing there, fighting to not throw my heart up. Next time you're getting charged double for that ice coffee. Be safe Diri, I'll see you on the other side.

Some going away music here

Your pastimes consisted of the strange,
And twisted and deranged,
And I hate that little game you have called
Crying lightning

peach perfection

no mangoes sub blueberries no apple juice sub peach juice.

Elsewhere

^ what they're up to at Brentwood.

I really haven't been keeping up with my exercise regimen at all. Not that I was particularly methodical about it before, I just never really made excuses. If I had free time I would do something. I did at least make the right decision financially and not spend money on frivolous crap. At the same time I really don't want to be alone tonight. Piece and love yall.

yup

Because I know you love it.

the ether

It was Kara's birfday yesterday, she's been on this spinning rock for a quarter of a century now. We waited at sake house for what seemed like an hour and couldn't get a table because there were seven of us. She was getting pretty depressed from being sober, so I figured out that she liked tequila and went and bought a bottle of patron silver while they got in-n-out. She gave me a ridiculous hug that somehow pushed me back like ten feet. Tyler, me, and Kara killed the bottle which put me in a pretty significant drunken stupor with the help of a couple beers. I walked Kara home somehow and she called me to make sure I got home safely. About three hours later I woke up on the floor, still pretty intoxicated, held a bagel in my mouth and started biking to class. Afterwards I helped Juan drop his bike off at the shop and ate some bomb Campos with him. Next I took a nap at my place aka the oven before work. Here's where the interesting thing happened.

I've never really had this feeling before but I woke up sweating my ass off, super paranoid that the alarm wasn't going to go off for some reason. I couldn't remember what I was dreaming about, but I knew for sure that I was dreaming about you.

On that note I closed with Victoria today. Something struck me today for the first time about her. She talks so much about herself that I think it would actually be impossible to have a real conversation with her. Regardless it's still entertaining to work with her. Also Anton came in today. That was fucking hilarious. I didn't know that it was common knowledge that he disliked me, for a moment I thought Victoria might know some shit. I got a little surge of adrenaline and for a second thought he might do something awesome like kick my ass. Unfortunately nothing happened other than it being crazy awkward. Rachel said some funny shit about him and T-dawg. I forgot to tell Victoria that I should borrow her car and bring her the keys back at Cacao when Anton is there, I thought that was funny. Also some lady came in and ended up having a conversation with Tori about Turkey vis a vis Talya. It seems like now that your name is taboo I hear it more than ever.

I had a crazy craving for mcdonalds today and it's sitting here beckoning me. Sorry for the journal-esque entry, felt like writing this shit today. I bid you all adieu.

not a metaphor

When I first got these bites I didn't really want to scratch them all that bad. They started to itch a bit after a couple months. Eventually I scratched them out of curiosity. Well, it was more than curiosity, they were beckoning me. They receded almost immediately as they will do. I forgot about the itch, the sensation of friction err scratching, even looking at the absence of a bite I started to long for them. Some other mysterious insect chomped on my dermis. I was covered head to toe in wounds. Even from the first scratch, I knew I wasn't supposed to be scratching. I didn't care though, scratching sent me into a frenzied euphoria. I was hit in the head with a frying pan, thrown off a moving bus, kicked in the scrotum, and so on and so forth. I really didn't care, the scratching was worth it to me. Now I sit here fucking dying to scratch the shit out of these things, but I think it's time to grab the calamine.

untitled

just another manic monday

It's a curious thing how you can be surrounded by the most loved people in your life and somehow still feel alone. I apologize to everyone that had to deal with my quieter than usual self today. Food was awesome, I'm proud to be an American, can't wait to wake up in six hours for class.

odious blogsmith

These blogs are interesting things. I feel like most people use blogs to further their careers or opinions, I guess just less personal than I do. Truthfully the internet is so vast, everyone who will ever read this probably knows me personally. This is an incomplete thought but thanks for attempting to follow my often convoluted thought processes.

I worked with Janet all day today, which was funny attempting to actively be positive. She told me we weren't allowed to steam matcha with the milk, which I did know, I just don't care enough about the machine to deny the customer her libation. I feigned ignorance yet again and she kicked me off the bar, yet again. I brought stuff to make sandwiches for dinner but no one wanted to eat anything from my backpack. Kinda made me sad for some reason...

On a lighter note Janet has already put in the paperwork for my promotion. Starting tomorrow I'm the new Customer Service Crustacean at Peets Coffee & Tea Montana! I haven't read the new job duties yet but hopefully no toileting is involved.

hypothetically speaking

What would happen if I just went to work and told myself I'm gonna have a good day no matter what happens? Does that work? I feel like maybe that's what I do already but sometimes I just can't pull it off. If I keep it in my mind to do it regardless maybe it'll work. Yesterday large single mocha with whip introduced me to her friend as the happiest person she'll ever meet. Who knows, was that accurate or what?

I'm gonna go make it a good day.

Edit: large single ICED mocha, what an idiot I am.

asphyxiated

Choking on my own words and bile. I can't help but listen to the Siren sometimes. It's just me, no Argonauts. Altitude dropped drastically, the Hindenburg had a crew of about a hundred. It's an optical illusion looking at both sides of the coin simultaneously. I should have just let my phone die today. I'm allowed to experience emotion, I'm pretty sure, and her Beefalo were exquisite. I'm sometimes doubtful of my ability to experience any emotion whatsoever, some people really challenge that assertion. I actually choke on it at times. I must slay Medusa.

My plans were shot in the foot tonight due to people I hate so much I refuse to ever see them again. To my Harry Potter fans with a netflix account, watch American Dad season 3 episode 3 "Dope & Faith". I'm going to go enjoy some peaceful meditation with a cup of Buddha Peak.

home is where the heart is

Patton Oswalt did a joke where he said he was a man without a country because he hated the war in Iraq but at the same time hated hippies. Every year I used to go to Anime Expo here in LA to reaffirm that, I too, am a man without a country. I just tried to check it out again for the first time in three or four years and I was vastly disappointed. Me and Chris got there around eleven, found parking, and headed over to the convention center. We were pretty much immediately told that it was closing. One of the few things I used to genuinely enjoy about AX was the never ending activity. You could find any number of things to do at times of the day when hardly anyone would be awake normally. We did get to see some huge nerds though which was pretty awesome. I gotta give Chris credit, he's had crazy ass hemorrhoids (no pun intended, or was it?) and he came out with me on what was certain to be a pretty pointless adventure. He was high as a satellite though.

Part of me thinks I don't get along with these people because of my anxiety or whatever. At the same time I really don't feel the need to wear a raccoon hat or dress up as Faye Valentine. For whatever reason these hobbies generally lend themselves to socially inept and awkward people, which I will admit, I'm not completely bereft of these qualities. Somehow I still feel better adjusted than ninety percent of them, and I'm being generous there. However I'm a huge asshole and most of them are incredibly nice. The community is very forgiving of any kind of quirk, disease, or sexual deviance you may have. Anyways looks like I'm gonna miss out on some nostalgia this year, maybe I'll try again next year.

Oh look, today was the first Friday of the month, I wonder if there were any special events going on that I might've wanted to take anyone to.

escribiendo

I've had the urge to write a lot more, I'm not entirely sure why but I have inklings. Reading is another beast entirely. I write specifically to get my thoughts out a lot of the time, with reading I don't think I have the concentration at the moment. When I'm sitting around reading I feel very anti-social, which is something I'm trying not to feel. There's only a couple people I know that I could sit down and read with, one lives in Long Beach now and the other...

It's a beautiful day out, sometimes I'm not sure why I want to leave so badly.

Edit: Itunes shuffled me the most depressing song ever. Shit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Qo4uGrGEtU

carpe diem

I wore it today, probably to make myself feel bad. Besides the obvious reasons, it makes me feel bad about not actually seizing the diem. I went to Brentwood to do homework for like four hours and told Jason that Sandy still didn't like him. That made me feel a little better.

Yesterday was one of those days where in stead of doing constructive things with my free time, my subconscious made me eat a ton of crappy food and sleep a lot. I did go out to dinner with my mom and uncle since he just turned sixty-six. That made me feel kind of shitty too. I used to live down the street from him and still live fairly close, I wonder if he's hurt by me not visiting at all. He reminds me A LOT of Barry in that he's so talented but isn't particularly motivated to use it in any way. He said his record player was on the fritz so I'd like to find one for him as a present, this is my mental note for myself. Here's another one, rent is due tomorrow.

No school for the next four days, gotta stay busy.

limbo

I really hate this time where the wound is so fresh, no matter how busy you keep yourself it doesn't really help. I want to just sit here with my own thoughts and be okay but I really can't. I know that other person cares and misses spending time with me in whatever capacity too but I trick myself into thinking she doesn't really care, and I'm not sure if that's hurting or helping...

stupid coincidences

Was in a car with Kai being asked about a certain former coworker while listening to Led Zeppelin.

sweet sorrow

I wish I could say that at any of the millions of junctures I was able to, I did the right thing. The fact of the matter is, I kept banging my head against a wall mentally beating the shit out of myself trying to bedevil a little girl into doing something she didn't want to do. I wish I could say that this was my decision, that I got tired of doing the wrong thing and interfering with your happiness. Obviously that's not what happened. I'd love it if I could just re-summon the anger I felt last week but really all I feel is, empty. Like for the past couple months I've been fighting to stay afloat in this turbulent fucking storm and today I just gave up. I've never done heroin or any other ridiculously addictive drug, but I imagine this is the appeal. It's almost funny how predictable it was, fucking stupendous highs followed immediately by subterranean lows. My favorite example. You may recall the rapture that occurred on May 21, the riders of the apocalypse came down and all of humanity was judged, It was a pretty big deal. We ended up kissing that night and the next day we worked almost the same shift together. That was one of the best shifts of my life and everybody knew it but obviously no one knew why. If I'm not mistaken by the end of that day we had resolved to never talk to one another again. I think we ended up going on a bike ride the next day. I missed your color commentary at Back to the Future night but more importantly I missed you. The cupcakes made up for it though, my brother ended up drinking a couple by the end of the night.

Out of all the crazy shit that came out of your mouth last night something has kind of stuck. I can't actually vocalize a lot of the things I text or say here. There are a couple reasons for this. One, most of it only occurs to me after I have time to think about it. Two, my brain and mouth just really don't get along all that well. I'm worried that this is actually a problem that I'll have to deal with but at the same time I think it may just be specific to you and our incredible awkwardness.

I really enjoyed talking to you, just in general I mean. Things would occur to me every now and then that I wanted to say to you or ask you about, and I'd write them down so I wouldn't forget. Even though you are no longer a peetnik, I enjoyed boring you with my mundane work stories. On Saturday the plug for the coffee urns exploded and everyone was freaking out, but somehow I was still half drunk from the night before and found everything hilarious. This was the same day Janet had to call corporate to make sure the Sencha wasn't radioactive.

It pains me greatly that I was never able to hear you gracefully pluck Tereré, or any of the others for that matter. I also failed you in your quest to master the manual transmission. For this I am sorry and must soon commit ritualistic suicide to avoid shaming my family.

This will be my final heartfelt/embarrassing paragraph. I'll miss your mischievous smile when you squint your eyes, your chipmunk cheeks, and yeah your big dumb brown eyes. Hopefully next time we run into each other you'll have forgotten this and how totally insane I am. I just realized that I've written this whole thing directly to you and have no idea if it will be read or not. Regardless I needed it out of my head. I made Affogatos for everyone in your honor today, voy a extrañarte you fucking coffee nerd you.

P.P.S Please don't laugh at me.

intoxicated

I'm completely punch-drunk and all the lights seem to be pointing in the right direction.

subconcious

i had a dream that you were going out with a friend of mine and I was listening to his monotone account of the break up wondering what I should do

thanks

I'll learn to fucking swim on my own.

Does eloquence have to get in the way of emotion or is it the other way around?
I may not have dodged the bullet entirely but at least it only nicked me, no pun intended dude.

poemic

toasted coconut and teeth marks
piercing chocolate oculi
curves rolling pin kneadable
perfume tangled kelp
rippleless rhythmic dough
convective breathless currents
dotted coffee dimpled

that's all for now...

night rider

I was coming home from nick's a couple hours ago riding up Overland. I had this really strange feeling as I came upon what I thought was my destination and I physically was unable to turn on to my street. I ended up getting lost in the hills between Westwood and Sunset for a while.

The avenues lay before me bereft of traffic
lights pulsing guiding me
my compass urging me south
fluid clicking metronome
furious movement
electrons repel
selective membrane
I'm not welcome here.

my wrists!

I want to write so badly but I don't know where to start. The Bell Jar fan does not slit their wrists in the bathtub. The Bell Jar fan is more apt to write a ridiculously self deprecating blog and shove his head in the oven. Oddly enough Plath killed herself at 4:30 AM... weird.

I had my part in fucking things up as usual. I take solace in the fact that I tried, but did I try my hardest?

Everything in Moderation

I've recently been on the, "you only live once." kick. The exactitude of this statement is almost inconsequential though. Really, you could interpret it to affirm or deny almost any choice in life. You don't want to go through life as safely as possible with millions of regrets. By the same token, you don't want to drag race on Venice at one in the morning and get t-boned by a semi. Do you eat organic chicken breast, spinach, and lentils for every meal or shove Jack in the Box, Ben & Jerry's, and donuts down your gullet? Obviously I don't have the answers to any of these questions but I will say that moderation is not always the correct answer either. Regardless of the existence of an afterlife, or reincarnation, or nothing at all, life will never be simply black and white. A lot of you would attest to my amazing inability to master the doggy paddle, but for now I'll be testing out the deep end and praying to (???) that I don't drown.

I had a dream about you this morning

It happened between my nine and ten o' clock alarms, which I think is part of the reason I had it. When I woke up at nine I had a panic attack because I forgot what day it is and what time I work. Anyway, we were sitting in some kind of antechamber to the store that obviously doesn't actually exist. You were sitting across it from me eating chicken noodle soup or something, but not eating it with a spoon. All the most annoying customers were walking through and talking to me for some reason (actually maybe this was a nightmare). Spiros came through and that guy who orders the large or medium half-caf who used to get decaf and it would never be ready so you'd have to brew it and he'd leave and come back in fifteen minutes came through, I hate that guy. I guess I would be fucking with the customers in my subversive way because every time I looked over, you had a huge shit-eating grin on your face. Also every time I looked over you were doing a different yoga pose and wearing a different uniform, but there was always something missing from your clothing that made you look odd. Weird...

deflated

like a chocolate croissant
beaten like a jumbo egg
melted chocolate
stupid croissant

The sound of inevitability

At some point I will die, I will cease to exist.

Intrigue

The words that I put up here are essentially just a monologue in my head right? Occasionally I pose a question to the shadows and I'm not really sure if answers matter all that much to me. What is it about this journal that attracts (or will attract) people to reading it? Do I write this for other people or do I write for myself. I think this thing is like a car wreck or something. I have plenty of good ideas for humorous little vignettes or weird concepts for fictional stories but I always end up writing here when I'm feeling introspective/idunno (I can't think of the word I want here).

Tangent: I think I have a slight stutter, is that possible? Isn't that genetic? I feel like when I'm speaking that I have to find the exact word in an exact order in most of my sentences. As I do this my brain is constantly tripping over itself attempting to scan it's limited resources. Anyway it's fine I just don't think I've ever really articulated this feeling.

Tangent#2: I have this expired trail mix from work with almonds cashews fruit and shit. I want to make a spaghetti sauce involving this for some reason. Probably because I've got this wild mushroom linguini my mom gave me for Christmas and I need to do it justice. I'm going to go search for complimentary flavors but if anyone has past experience with this I'd love to hear it. Let me add an addendum real quick, I'm not going to strain any tea anywhere near this shit.

The funny thing is I made fun of my brother for sitting there looking at a comment he was going to make on facebook, completely written out, deleting it and rewriting it like five times. I've been sitting here writing three almost completely unformatted paragraphs for forty minutes now? Not to be too bleak but these words have a maximum potential effect, these aren't going to change anyone's life, they are purely entertainment. Yet I still have to sit here and make sure that each word is perfectly placed in this box, even the ones that aren't recognized by Oxford just yet. The very gibe jokingly (lovingly) spat at Barry is what I like most about writing, what I can't do when I speak. Sitting here staring off into space while I find those words lurking somewhere in my subconscious. As much as I wish I could do that in polite conversation, I'm already at maximum awkwardness.

I'm pleased with how this has turned out. Thank you all for encouraging me to write when it sometimes feels like a chore that I'm unwilling to do. For the record, I often spend ten, fifteen minutes typing out a comment or status on facebook and delete it thinking, "what the fuck is the point of this? why should anyone care about this?" Sometimes you just have to scream out into that void, I know. I never feel like that with this, and that makes me happy. And yes I will probably sit here for another half hour before I hit publish.

So...

I was lying awake in my bed a second ago trying to recall whether I had locked my door or not, which wasn't a terrible excuse to come down and write this. Thinking if someone came in and stole what few possessions I own while I was unconscious a few feet away, I probably deserve it due to some shitty karma. My inspirations are incredibly corny but I feel like it's relevant and easily relatable. I've been watching a lot of the American Office and the relationship between Jim and Pam is written in a way that I think many of us can relate on some level or another. I kind of know how it ends and I generally disagree with the whole fairy tale ending but hey, it's good TV. I pretend I'm watching each episode for the first time which is not particularly difficult because it's been a while since I've seen them and the show's very well written and acted. I just finished watching the episode where Jim confesses his feelings for Pam and kisses her, which probably led me to my karmic epiphany. Speaking of epiphany, Nick was telling me about a chemical that ceases to be produced in your brain after the age of twenty four. The absence of the chemical makes it impossible for you to question the nature of existence internally or something, must follow up on this.

So I've always marginalized my role in pursuing Marina until just recently for whatever reason, or maybe it's because it's the exact situation in the Office, I don't know I'm not an analrapist. I'd like to think this is part of me getting older thinking back on past antics and truly grasping the gravity of my actions. The fact of the matter is that Marina was engaged prior to meeting a seventeen year old me. It was all pretty much down hill from there. I somehow convinced myself that she wasn't in love with him in virtue of having feelings for me. It's funny, I wonder what I could accomplish if I was actually that confident. All of you have had some choice words about Marina over the years but I enjoyed all the ups and downs we shared. However, in the year two thousand eleven, I must admit to myself that morally, getting involved with her was probably not my best decision.

Now it would be one thing if this was an isolated incident. I'm not going to go into detail but sufficed to say I have a terrible fucking track record with this. I'm positive that the forbidden fruit is what attracts me at this point. What I don't understand, is why? In case you were wondering, the door was unlocked.

one day

I believe this will be a significant collection of tortured musings.

Musical Significance

There are times in my life when some lyrics, even stupid cheap corny ones, are so veracious it's scary. Something I strive for in writing and life is to shy away from making other's words my own. However I must also acknowledge that I am not the greatest writer that ever lived nor am I even proficient at writing in certain styles myself. Words about love are particularly interesting to me. The complex emotions human beings are capable of feeling is astounding. At the tender age of twenty-three I feel erringly experienced in the matters of life and love. I think about what I have experienced (or believe I have) and then try and comprehend the amount of emotion I have never experienced and become overwhelmed. That's not even accounting for the unexpected occurrences I couldn't imagine from thin air.

I mostly think about the definition of love when someone challenges me on my definition. What do any of us really know about it, you can come up with some bullshit hallmark phrase like , "love means never having to say you're sorry." What does it really mean. You should really apologize if your spouse told you they were cooking an elaborate dinner and you went out to drink with coworkers instead. It's just good manners.

Anyways I just got home and felt an animalistic urge to write this. I had to pee really bad though so I did that first, but then I immediately wrote this. Like the light is still on in the bathroom. Tomorrow is cheat day, i'm gonna drop a nyquil and hit the hay. To the two people that read this, have you ever really loved someone? I await responses with bated breath.

I'm losing.

I'm sick and fucking tired of parking enforcement officers. I want to sell this god damn car and be done with these pricks. I'm sick of trying to be a good person and not see any good karma come my way. All I get is hard work and minimal rewards. I'm sorry if this comes off as a bit base and angry, but I'm a tad buzzed.

I appreciate the efforts of the parking enforcement officers that see a PARKED 1989 Honda CRX with penises stenciled all over it, and think, "Hmm that guy/gal has a ton of dough and won't mind this $25 ticket for not displaying his/her front plates!" What kind of person does it take to do this job? I'm really trying as hard as I can to put myself in their shoes. What kinds of pressing conditions are forcing me to do this shitty job? Anyways I've come up with an awesome idea that i'll probably go to jail for. I'm going to write a speech and go contest one of these god damn tickets and read this shit to anyone who will listen.

the truth

I'll show you what it does...
How it is...
And what it... do.

I want to start rapping or at the very least writing. I don't know if I really have the voice or flow to do it, that's my only real hangup.

If you play the dvd at the same time that you start the cd, you gon' see that they sync up, and if you happen to doubt just play the cd while you watch the tv and you gon' see that i'm doin' what i'm rappin' about. Chea!

escribir

I'll have to take better pictures at some point, these suck pretty bad.

slaughterous and bloodthirsty

I'm listening to Ajico, which is hardly homicidal music. If anything it's suicidal but that's fine, I'm feeling conflicted. I'm sort of dizzy sitting in the dark listening to this coughing like a madman and had the urge to write here. Not sure why, I think it's because a couple people have asked about it recently. Maybe because I feel like I need to do something that has made me feel important in the past. I have class in four hours and I just finished my little verse to Marc on facebook so I have no idea what I should write. I'll try not to rap here.

At times I think my brother may be the crazier of us two, but then maybe I have the same feelings as him and just fight through them in stead of deal with them. I'm saying this so that he'll see this and we'll talk about it, but that won't happen. He won't read this (I wanted to say "until it's too late", but that's not really apt. I would even say "in time" but that is misleading also) in a timely manner. I really need to move out. I want to start reading more, but that's impossible with certain people around, or maybe anyone around really. A bug has burrowed into the dermis. What kind of bug is it. I'm not going to try and determine that, it's just going to creep me out.

Chores I hate doing: cutting toe nails, shaving, laundry, being a normal human being.

Hey how's it goin? goo... large mocha? do you want whip on that? that'll be three fifty, what's your name? Chief?.. oh STEVE, thanks a lot. I can help the next person in line right over here. Not much lucidity here sorry. Hey how're you?... oh I'm alri... small nonfat latte? what's your name? Farinda? alright that's three dollars. Thanks a lot.

I ride a fucking bicycle everywhere, still go to community college, should have graduated from an actual school two years ago if I wasn't such human waste, barely ever change clothes, can't carry a conversation to save my life, am literally incapable of regarding anything seriously, bite my nails, generally just a nervous wreck, scrawny-gaunt-skeletonfucker, losing my goddamn hair, huge nerd, obsessed with things maybe fifty people on the entire planet give the tiniest fuck about, get enough sleep once every couple weeks, literally don't fit in anywhere, never going to age past about thirteen mentally, so non-confrontational it hurts, possibly too mentally challenged to learn a language that wasn't beat into his skull since he was born, hates quite a bit more than he lets on (which is a fucking feat), vocabulary consists of a kindergartner's + fuck, is incredibly fake in ninety nine percent of conversations just wants to say fuck off and be alone again, has less culture than Julia Roberts, would fuck a redwood if it had a vagina, has perfect eyesight (this is negative because I want to wear glasses so people think I'm smart), shows no emotion whatsoever, doesn't even want to think about the amount of time literally wasted watching t.v., I lie a ton for no reason at all, smells everything (everything), I find it difficult to brush my teeth (twenty three years old), wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight, and I occasionally don't wear socks. I suck so bad I couldn't even keep track of what tense I was writing in. Hey I'm thinking about keeping this list up to date, does that sound like a good time? Marinating...