fuckin’ pie. there ya go, kids. it’s fuckin’ pie. not cake, but pie.

once again, if anyone is following, i’m back to meditate on the meaningless drivel that is this great life we all live. with thoughts meandering through this gruesome carapace-covered lump of soggy fat some might call a brain. i suppose that’s what i call it too. when it’s not taunting me.

where’ve i been? where am i going? does it matter? does anyone care? all questions. all going to be unanswered. because if Lost has taught us anything, it’s best to keep people in the dark. i suppose that goes for the political world too. just know that every time i had something resembling an inkling of a worthwhile thought, just as quickly i crumpled it up and figuratively discarded it into the abyss that is forgetting.

so while i’m granted the gift of a certain literary eloquence, i’m going to ask an important question. where, oh where- did all the team players go? is it just me now? did i miss the meeting where we said “hey. let’s discard this notion of anything resembling selflessness.” i probably did. i think House was on that night.

traffic patterns are an excellent example. you can merge into a lane at the last minute, relying on a Blanche DuBois notion of some stranger inflicting his kindness on you; or you can think ahead and merge two miles before during an opening that bothers no one. my 40 minutes in traffic today was certainly anecdotal evidence of the former. let’s all merge at once. in fact, let’s merge at the exact point where three lanes happen to come together. while i talk on my cell phone and swerve in front of people in my urban assault vehicle. victory, i say. pure victory.

oh how i wish i could be absent from that. i’ve been absent from so many other things lately. just not the right ones.

so this blog’s been inactive for some time now.

the last year or so the post count has been very sparse. dwindling, in fact.

there have been several false starts, and it makes me wonder if a change in approach is forthcoming on my part.

it very well could be.

but for now this page remains, as i mull over what to do exactly.

on one hand, i’d hate to terminate something that’s so full of my musings and whatnot.

on the other, where has it really gone?

for the moment, enjoy the archives. new material may be forthcoming. here or elsewhere.

my ass is still sticking to the wooden chair. actually, it used to be a bar chair. and a wonderful one that that. salut!

yes. i’ve had a bit much of the beer. but i’m also (somewhat) coherent. for the parts that i am not, there is spell check. for the parts spell check cannot solve, there is…. nothing really.

it has once again been a while since i hath posted an entry on here, and i am debating whether to jump to another site and change formats. it would kill the longevity of my pointless bitching that nobody really reads, but it might inspire a leap in readership. still inconclusive.

i find it funny how i can type with such agility while i am intoxicated. this is fucking diesel. then again, i have always been quite nimble under the influence. just not the right kind of nimble, ya know? *wink wink* [depressing]

i went back and read the same old notes again. and it’s kind of funny. the prose and the timing. the diction and the phrasing. so similar. but i suppose it’s not to be. unfortunate, but whatcha gonna do? i’m not one of those guys. and i never will be. i thought for some reason there’d be this amazing connection. and maybe there could be. but you gotta do what you gotta do. despite my intuition otherwise, i have to let her do her thing. i’m not a clingy person, i don’t ride people for shit, and i’m not paranoid as to what they’re doing. it bugs me, but i realize people need space. i do too. so i’m going to sit back. i guess any initiative from now on is not in my court. i suppose more proactive people would disagree, but that’s not me. you’re free to do what you want. there’s my libertarian side again.

and some people might bug me for dwelling on it. maybe i do. it just bugs me because i thought it was perfect. for once. oh well.

the counting crows hit from the 90s “long december” is on my 90s shuffle mix now. it brings me back to a time where i didn’t know where i was going. come to think of it, it’s not so unfamiliar. good song nonetheless. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen the ocean. guess i should.” yup.

you have no idea where i’m going with this. and that’s fine. this is the longest entry i’ve posted in a while, and it’s fueled by something else. i may regret this later, but i really don’t give a fuck at the time. that’s how it is. beer is delicious in mass amounts when you don’t have to drive. i’m glad i became a beer fan. so many types, so many flavors, it’s all a lot of fun. i’ve debated starting a beer blog. but i’m lazy and have creative spurts at inopportune moments. so i guess not, eh?

i just reread the majority of this post, and for some reason i find it funny. (fuck capitalization, as always.) i’d catalog everything in my head right now- i’m tempted to- but it would be too much. still kinda funny how things can be so clear when your head is not so much….

oh, since i’m saying whatever i want, go to puzzigma. it will succeed this time. i promise not to comment unless it’s awesome. that much talent, it needn’t go to waste. i laughed my balls off when reading it. and i was sober too. i don’t laugh much anymore for some reason, but this got me going.

in a weeks time i will be somewhere else. and i look forward to that. it’s something i’ve needed for a long time. i haven’t gone out into the wild for over a year. it’s been that long, since i work like a bitch. i need to talk to some people about this weekend, really. and get a new cell phone battery. but that’s another matter altogether.

i hope i set myself up to win this last part of the year. it’s tough when you don’t know what the fuck you’re going to do. i had several plans, but i haven’t heard shit from most. i wanna make the progression, honest, but it’s just not in the cards. i feel like i’ve failed, but at the same time, i am helping out- so i guess it balances.

it’s been a trying year. to say it’s been the most difficult year of my life so far would actually be correct.

there was just a doe some 30 feet away. she was eating under the apple tree outside my window. i spooked her out of the place. on one hand i feel bad. one another hand, i feel bad because she does no harm eating the grass instead of our corn. but on the third hand (yes, that makes sense… um..) i have something against the overpopulation of a creature that has hurt myself and my family so much. once again, politicians do nothing. typical.

i thought about going into politics once. then i feared i’d become what i hated- them. them and their sellout mentalities. their ability to take care of themselves and fuck people over. even if i stayed true to me, i worry that i’d end up making enemies in the political spectrum that would really fuck me over. in fact, i’m sure of it.

because you either get along with me or you don’t. i appreciate intelligent, crude, insightful, honest people. and if you find yourself not along those lines, you probably hate me. i find there’s three types of people who deal with me- those who like me, those who hate me, and those who are really fucking confused. the third category often progresses into the second. for that i feel bad. but you can’t win everyone i suppose. despite naive beliefs otherwise.

and so i dunno what else i have to say. this is the longest entry in forever. it might not make sense, but i did not intend for it to make sense. in the rare instance it gives insight, perhaps it will help my causes. for now i will space out and hope that tomorrow comes with a promise of something wonderful. good night, my friends.

The same endless loops and routines that your brain gets stuck in. Like you’re perpetually wedged in between involuntary and insanity because, for some reason, you can’t seem to break free of the things robotically smashed into your brain.

And the superficial shit-eating grins from self-entitled substanceless babies that wreak havoc on the electron interplay known as your television set.

With the continuous echos of whining brought forth from people lacking the foresight to prevent their woes and without insight to help them cease.

Once again the candle flickers in the wind, dancing perilously between the states of being vigorous and not being at all.

To which I can only bear witness.

he’s alive. again. no, again again. oh i’ve lost count.

so it’s once again been awhile since i’ve come back and posted something here. i don’t know whether or not i’m going to once again follow through on once again regularly producing pseudo-content for this steaming pile of calamity and random cerebral misfires. as always, we shall see.

“we shall see” is something i often say when i don’t feel like committing to something, and have a tiny chance of ever consistently following through. do you wanna go do something? we shall see. can you do all my work for me? we shall see. do you want to really put together that debacle of a project? we shall see.

i almost feel like i should apologize for the consistently downbeat feeling behind this little site. but then i realize that i’m very much a downbeat person with low expectations regarding things like luck, human behavior, politics, sports teams i adore, and events in general. i suppose it is because i’m too lazy to stick my neck out and risk being hurt. perhaps that makes me a coward. i think it unfortunately makes me a realist. but it also fortunately makes me a survivor. that’s where you add that stupid destiny’s child song reference. cliche stuff is yummy.

fuck, i love The Catherine Wheel. just thought i’d throw that out there.

a friend has decided to Old Yeller something that we’ve worked on in the past. my feelings towards this decision are 100% in support. he was bankrolling it anyway. it was a good run, though. i think some of the stuff we wrote was pretty damn good. well, correction, the stuff everyone except me wrote was pretty damn good. my stuff was hit or miss. oh well. anyway, he’s gone on to greener pastures with a very nice-looking site which already has some great stuff on it. check it out. steve guttenberg demands it.

fuck, i love Broken Social Scene too.

things are… things. to say it hasn’t been tumultuous with all the things going on in and outside of my head would be to lie worse than a lying liar. and that’s bad. i don’t feel like discussing it, because brooding is so “in” these days.

fuck, i love… i don’t know anymore.

but verse, chorus, verse, chorus is still the way to go.

Woo hoo. Fire up your whoa-is-me mentality and drag your feet through the trenches of the day. When life gives you lemons, make napalm. When life gives you cliches, make novels.

And bask underneath the so-called brilliance of some so-called creative genius who pampers you with bedtime stories of things that will be but never actually delivers on them. When other people have to constantly remind you of their goodness, perhaps it’s just them propping the cardboard cutout up so you can’t see the miserly cheapskate behind the curtain. And while we’re at it, let’s reserve ourselves for the (once again so-called) “high class” forms to further our delusion of what we really are. If I had listened to certain straight-shooters before, maybe I’d have avoided being dragged into this mess.

So I had this dream that I was walking through my high school of all places. And it was with someone I really haven’t talked to in some 6 or 7 years. It was pretty wild. Simple walking and talking, but oh how I wish I could’ve remembered the words. It would’ve been the perfect movie script. Of course the dream ended before anything really interesting. Fucking alarm. Once again, I screw myself over. Now I have to write the ending myself instead of asking the subconscious to do it.

Life is taxing. It’s really a quest to find the nice little parts within all the bullshit that keeps the status quo going. At times I feel bad for those fuckers with tons of money. Because they’re constantly struggling to stay on top, to stay alive, to be number one. A great man once said something along the lines of “I’m not afraid to die, I don’t have any money to part with anyways.” I agree.

Gimme something simple. Play it back.

i saw you in the moon today
made to survive another time
brought to distances away from here
grind the road once again

lost my poise
head in hands
not knowing what to say
not knowing how to say

our best drunken conversations
your lapsed interest
my erratic brain
synched to yours

the struggle of the Big Three
all are right
all are wrong
but some hurt more

you make me lose it
the edge you give
it’s hot or cold
from there my soul

it’s funny, really. the aftermath of a liquid haze through which you clumsily waded your way through. all the while, of course, colliding with extreme representations of emotions you know.

and in the end you wake up with that funny feeling that there’s a ten pound weight strapped to your head, with a belly screaming out for reprieve from that wonderful clearinghouse process it had to go through while you dreamt of really odd things- dreams ripe with metaphors and details quite revealing to how your head has been working this last little patch of time.

for this moment in time, any sort of coherent familiar melody can act as a crutch to bring you back down to the level at which the populace currently functions. once there, the recollection of what transpired in those earlier hours can steadily trickle back and you can marvel at how you got away with certain things. like not getting pneumonia. or saying what you said.

while it may seem like a self-destructive process to some, it’s still something that you look back on with a positive expression on your face. which means that it’ll happen again.

lather, rinse, repeat. party.

Back to cryptic post titles. Back to typing things. Back to… here?

I suppose this could be yet another false start in my history of false starts. I could once again be talking about doing something and end up doing absolutely nothing. But that’s where the interesting part comes in- you don’t know if any of it’s true. Then again, I kind of don’t either.

So let’s do a quick round-up of my head. Apathy, confusion, boredom, hunger, anxiety, elation, exhaustion, hope, pity, humility, pessimism, pride, regret, stubbornness, futility, energy, aggression, jealousy, vengefulness, relaxation, aloofness, addiction, creativity, smugness. That should do it.

My dreams have gotten so weird and realistic that I sometimes have trouble discerning them and reality. It can be the case that at points in time I wish that one or the other were true. Unfortunately you can’t pick or choose. Sucks.

I wish I could come up with something funny right now, but it seems the tank is empty. So instead my wry prose is employed to fill the space between brain and nothingness. Funny how words can have so much power. How they can be twisted around. How they can hurt or heal.

I might just go lay down now. It seems the moments of the day where I get the most respite are those that involve me laying down and staring up at the ceiling. Or when I’m out and about doing fun things. But it’s time for a break now.

Yes, it seems I took yet another lengthy hiatus. I have. It’s not like there’s been nothing significant under way, it’s just that I haven’t had the words to make it presentable in any sort of moderately entertaining fashion. That’s not to say this will be entertaining; this will be quite lengthy and boring. I hope you brought your Walkman.

It’s rather funny how things can turn around completely in the blink of an eye. That’s not to say I’ve been blindsided by it all; in fact I’ve been expecting it for a while. But I suppose the harsh reality is something that takes all those magic chemicals buzzing around in your brain and just shakes them the hell up.

So I’m sitting here with foobar on shuffle, with Everything But The Girl’s biggest hit “Missing” somehow stumbled upon, looking out to the darkened skyline towards the city only to see the countless backyard lights and peaks of bare trees. Winter really is cold. I love that dark blue tint and frozen stillness about the terrain; as if everything is caught in one silent flashbulb of a moment. The other night as I was pulling out of my driveway; my headlights were hitting the snow on the ground in such a way that it was lighting up alternating rows of glittering snowflakes. It was rather beautiful. I need to notice these things more often.

And of course there are other things. I’m being fairly straightforward in those efforts. I don’t really see any way that’s less effective or preferable. What you see is what you get. Ask me a question, and I’m going to answer it. I may go off on mildly humorous tangents, but you will know exactly what the real deal is somewhere in that convoluted mess. I guess I’m easy? Not that kind of easy, perv.

You can be dense and deep at the same time, right?