Techno Robot Pudding

there are good times. and there are very bad times. i’m feeling rather bad for some right now. it bothers me to see others in this type of pain. the best i can do is offer my support. i pray it does the trick.

somewhere else there is a crisis of the self, perhaps. i’m torn trying to think of reasons i’m right, all the while the reasons i am wrong stare me in the face. things need to be twisted around again, such that i can make the best of the best- rather than the worst of it.

sometimes i wish i could be like my mp3 player, and randomly display “temperature too low, shutting down.” it’d be a type of hibernation.

he may be starting to lose it. the words are no longer being output at a coherent rate. he can’t spell any more. he can’t line the letters up right any more. his head’s firing wrong again. he can’t sleep again. he can’t think again. he can’t speak again. he can’t hear that phrase without wincing again. he can’t stop again. he can’t do what he should again.

you gotta wonder if being innately good is really worth it these days. i’m going to cling to the naive idealistic stance- that it is. here’s hoping.

I think it’s been about a year.

It was quite the average setting, time, and place. Perhaps a little bit later than usual. Perhaps it was also a little bit colder or gloomier too. I don’t remember much of those parts. Regardless, I was walking along the beach of a small body of water. It was several miles of wild, meandering currents. But no more than fifteen feet wide at the worst.

I hadn’t expected to find myself down on these sandy shores. But, as these things are, I willingly wandered down. It was familiar territory I hadn’t taken the time to visit thoroughly in some time. I walked along the beach unaware of most; just being there for the sake of waiting for something to happen. It did. It was not what I expected.

From the skies came a rather large feather of rare texture and beauty. I admired it as it sauntered through the air. The intricate pitching and weaving ingrained in this descent enraptured my attention. There was something deeper to it. I felt as if it wanted me to have it. I knew I wanted it, regardless. So I set course to the edge of the coastline, within reach of the feather.

As I approached, the winds shifted. Ripples began to form in the water; and soon the culmination of these natural efforts produced a small wave which captured the object of my affection. The wave was nothing remarkable, yet it still managed to carry this object down the stream.

I strained to contort my body in order to both stay dry and to reach the feather floating down the way. Despite my efforts, it kept going. I could not find a reasonable explanation for why this feather chose to keep going, aside from the fact that it seemed to be the mystery of gravitation.

And there it went. Further away from my grasp. Eventually the coastline ended, and I was forced to watch it drift off into the distance.

I still suspect it is out there on that wave. But, as waves are, it is possible that one day it will settle. Perhaps it will be close enough to land for someone to pick it up. Perhaps I will be there. Perhaps it will remain but a memory.

i could be the remedy. i could be a lot of things. thank goodness none of them is an axe murderer. killing axes is a difficult business.

you’ve been shot through the mind with a one-lined bit of delectable characters. i pray it didn’t hurt. if it did, odds are it’s not because any neurons were hurt.

things are happening all around us. everywhere. events are like bits of junk floating through space. collisions occur. sometimes they produce objects of beauty. sometimes they wreak devastation.

what sort of passion begets such a string of odd metaphors? wish i knew.

hopefully the aching calms down before my next opportunity to begin it again. i pray that what i think is tendinitis is not, or isn’t anything worse. guess i have to take it easier. bleh, fuck that.

it’s too late for me to stop thinking. it’s too early for me to start. twist that one around for a while.

i’m just putting whatever down here because i feel like filling space and have nothing real to say. actually, that’s not true. i do have some things to say, but i’m not going to say them here for certain reasons. mainly because i don’t want you to know certain things.

it’s fun being kept in the dark. trust me, i know. then again, maybe it’s because i’m too dumb to find the light switch.

i don’t know. i’m tired of listening to the bass. it hurts after a while.

perhaps it is better this way. a certain abstraction keeps you on your toes. probably confuses too.

and i always ruffle a few feathers. it’s what it means to be misunderstood. form your impressions, i don’t care. the people i actually give a damn about are the only opinions that count, and they understand anyways.

looking forward to new routines. i need to get running again. it will hurt at first, i’m hoping. otherwise, i’m not working hard enough. it will be nice to be tired because i’m tired, rather than tired because i’m rested.

it’s time for a reset. everything must get torn down and rebuilt again. i’ve forgotten what it was to be me. ego has run amok and i’ve been using fatigue as an excuse to be reckless. no more.

and it’s funny because at the beginning of each semester i resolve to bust my ass, but i never quite reach that level. one last chance. by the way, this is not just a scholastic resolution. it is a personal one. no more sleeping at the day.

perhaps this starts with a change in routine. no more late nights staying up to stare at the screens while blasting music and feeling bad. carpe fucking diem.

and that is our chorus.

it’s raining again. the pitter-patter of the tiny droplets is like a cascade of miniaturized marbles being poured irregularly on the aluminum roof of the porch adjacent to my bedroom. it’d be snow if it were fifteen degrees cooler. is that frightening?

i’ve allowed myself to sleepwalk through the day. and why not? i only had about two and a half hours of actual sleep last night. it’s all my fault. it should have been four and a half at the least. in this sleep-deprived state i am a delusional mess of uneasy giddiness and cocksure stupidity. rather than tactfully selecting bits of peculiar wit, i’ve vomited a mess of crude verbal matter. not all in waste, but sometimes even i am perplexed by what the fuck i just said.

once again, there’s that feeling of drifting about. like i am a ghost passing through time and space, keeping things in equilibrium yet staying isolated from anything important. my stomach turns each time i think of what comes next. the future is terrifying. and fascinating. i have the strength for it. i hope the patience is there too. should everything fall apart i will probably do what i always do when that happens: improvise. it could be even more fun that sticking to a plan, actually.

i always wanted to write some sort of book. my big problem is that i get going in a direction and then kind of space out. kind of a diminishing returns deal. i always wanted to write a funny book. i’ve had trouble being funny lately. it also seems everything i put down into words is quite downbeat. things need to be mulled awhile longer.

a friend recommended this fantastic band called Explosions in the Sky. i have already listened to about half of their releases in the last two days. brilliant instrumental stuff, some of it quite moving.

tomorrow CBC airs a hockey-fest… from 2pm to after midnight. if i somehow do not become occupied with anything else, i’ll be enjoying those fine games- including the Sabres game. how could i not?

classes resume soon. who knows how my final semester will go. i plan on taking advantage of it to the fullest. it’s rather sad how you don’t realize how you’ve pissed away the years until it’s all over. i thought high school taught me that. apparently, it didn’t.

one of the best habits i’ve established for myself is the one where i sit around and relax. just sit, stare up at the walls, perhaps play some music, and let everything go. it’s quite the exercise. everyone should set aside time for it.

i set aside some time for losing once. thing is, i didn’t lose anything; i just failed to gain. sometimes failure is the best option. it keeps you reined in. all the better for a big release.