Hello There, You

A story,

Nothing like before

Shortly.

I've been telling myself I need to write, I've been saying the words in my head so much they've actually manifested aloud.  And the recent conversations to me of my blog only have brought it more to the present.

The Holidays.  I started to get into a comfortable place the other day, I use the term 'comfortable' very loosely here as it's actually a very unpleasant feeling.  What was comfortable, rather, was the familiarity of it.  I was off of work, and knowing I didn't have to be back for another 48 hours took a weight off my shoulder like never before.  These feelings used to come so much easier not too long ago.  Just getting two days off in a row would do this for me; but now, with the routine, two days just isn't enough.

I can put the blame on Sunday.  Sunday is one of my days off, the most worthless day in my book.  here's what usually happens.  Friday, get out of work, never early, but continue with my week things and routines. Friday night I'm likely to still get into bed at the same time as i did the night prior..but I sleep in Saturday.  Sure sleeping in for me now is something like waking up at 8:35; but I take my piss and go back to bed.  Waking sometime once the double digits hit.  I'll make my breakfast and slowly begin my day, never really getting it out of, and at worse into, second gear.  Once 4:30 hits I'm back out for the count, a mid-day nap for no reason other than why not.  I awake an hour or so later rearing to go!  But of course by then it's a little late to get very much accomplished....maybe go to the gym..maybe hit the grocery store..but that's about all i can do.  And then sunday comes around.  Now that I've used a day to rest up, I'm good to go the next..the only problem is; mostly everything is closed on a Sunday.  This 'holiday' weekend has been no different.

I kept with my Christmas tradition and rented some Redbox movies (though I can't get (too) drunk, as I do not have tomorrow off from work).  Call it what you will, but the movies I've been watching have had something to do with writing; book, stories, what have you...this consistent theme must have struck a chord with me as here I am now, writing, telling you nothing but garbage.

I'm losing my bearing here.  There's a lot on my mind -  things started to flare up over the weekend, but I took a friend's company to drown out anything surfacing.  Maybe I'm not completely derailed and this upcoming 96 will take me to where I need to go.  I'm hoping so, because I really was all over the place in this one, yet I don't think I got anywhere.

Here's looking at tomorrow...

"..if only my dreams involved tomorrow"

Horrible

fuck that
fuck you

"My dad died today," she said via text, "please leave me alone." In an instant I felt horrible for bitching her out, "are you fucking kidding me?!" i say to myself, knowing better to not type that just in case it were true.  I already diced this poor soul into pieces, I didn't know it'd be a blow while she was already done. Of course, the one day I decide to text her, blow her up, out of the several months I haven't, her dad dies; perfect timing.

How did it get to become like this; how did I get to become everyone's hated number one; how did I get to become so horrible?

I realize what an old friend of mine said to be true, a subscriber of this blog once said to me, "If I were to title your blog, I'd call it the 'troubles of being genuine' " truer words have never been spoken.  People aren't used to this sort of brass tactics streaming from the orchestra...the aren't used to the abrasiveness of the chili in their mouth.. and yet, for some reason, at first, they are drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

I was on a roll this week, already losing 5 friends of FB in just two days, I figured why not take care of that kindling just laying around, the one I've been putting off for some time now, see what kind of sparks can fly if i were to kick it.  

I was heartless, offering condolences for her loss, I still stuck to my grounds, telling her to leave me the fuck alone.  I was pot committed by that point.  I saw the light at the end of the tunnel and no hearse was going to get in my way of finishing the mission.  A lesser person would have broken down, but the person on the other end of the receiving texts was not a kind soul, no sympathy to be spared.

November is only half over, and I've caused enough destruction to last a year, if not longer.  I'm not sure what other 'bang' I can go out in, but I guess I really wasn't prepared for this November when I encouraged it to "do its worst"

poor choice of words I had.









"it's not personal...don't take it personal"

Let Me Catch My Breath

-What's her excuse this time?

-She doesn't need to have one...

she's here and that's all that matters

It's funny how life works operates sometimes.  And I know I've gone off on rants about how it's funny if you think about it, manifest the thoughts out there, how weirdly coincidental ironic those thoughts seem to reach their destinations and get a reply.

I was going to write tonight, no surprise here i am now, but it was on a different note..in fact, probably a pining opposite.  I was in the place where my thoughts steam the mirrors in my head the most..and as those thoughts clouded up every transparent view i may have held in my mind, I decided then to open the door and let it out.

But just as I was to crack open the glass, letting free the feelings, the very thing in which I wanted to write about, wrote to me.  And just like that, the clouds of longing parted, and my heart onward marched.

and the beat went on...just as it has before, always.

"Hey."

Double, Double

Dribble,

Vision,

Standards...

People are not what the seem to be.  At least that what it seems to me.  Lately I've been finding myself at the end of many mouth canons, receiving oral ammunition fired at me.  I've done my best to dodge those bullets, but given the onslaught of muzzle fire, my quick wittedness could only last so long.  And as I lay there dying to believe what's been interjected as a possibility of reality, that my gig was up, and time wasn't on my side...I start deliberating up some sort of change or acceptance.  Then, when they think I've lost sight, I eye their mistake.

There's several ways in which you can classify people:  There's those who play devil's advocate and call out everyone on everything.  I'm amoung those in that select category.   There's those who just take it.  And then there's those who only call people out when actually they are to blame.  This is a fun category.  These people try to play the system to make it seem like they have good intentions, like they are asking the questions to protect themselves, they are not at wrong...and if they are playing the second group it usually works out for them...but the truth is, it's their guilty conscience that manifests all the questions, all the accusations, all the anger.

It's because they know they are doing something wrong, something they wouldn't want done to them; and if they have the ability to do it to someone, what's stopping that someone from doing it right back without their knowledge.  These people are scum.  Not only are they the ones out there actually performing the nefarious acts,  they have the audacity to inculpate the ones who have done no wrong, the ones who have stood there, by their side...

I fucking hate people is what it comes down to.  People are idiots, and all they want to do is turn the tables on you.  Their situation is never called into question, yet every one of yours is.  And even given the chance to try and bring matters of theirs forward, it's turned around and blamed on you, naturally.

I could sit here and preach about how this person did this or that person did what...but I don't have the patience for that..it's saturday, and I want to do things, even if that includes nothing.  Maybe Season Five of Californication was right...maybe sometimes you just have to sit back and not say anything..not counter..not fight...sometimes you just have to take the call

And so this time, the penalty is on me.

"Trying to bite my tongue, but that's more pain than its worth, so I'll just say 'fuck you' and be done"

H Two Uh Oh.....

Chemistry..

Law...

one of those things I've never been good at.

Something bad has occurred, something really really bad.  Of course this is in reference to the situation that started back in March/April; for those of you who know about and have been following.  Yes, the situation is still going on, no I haven't heard anything new other than to just keep waiting.  Just keep waiting to get results back I know will further prove I didn't do anything.

Then life says, hold that thought....

This week work sent me to a class/workshop thing to learn about using a new program for our department.  It was a pilot course, but nobody really cares.  The main point is, not being at my normal place of work, I am sans all my stuff; desk full of goodies, snacks, water, etc.  That being said, knowing how thirsty I get on a daily basis, and knowing I wouldn't have access to anything like I normally would during the class, I made a walking out the door decision I'd soon regret...

As I made up my breakfast togo I remembered about the drink situation.  I looked around for any random Powerade bottles I still may be have hiding around; but recalled finishing those but a month after moving in here.  I make my way to the fridge and open the door - it's really awkward for me, I've never been a fan of having the freezer on the bottom.  Once open I scan the contents.  Food items, condiments, some milk, couple pony kegs of some Michigan love, more beer, a bottle of champagne I plan to pop once I get the results back and my name is cleared, fruit....

as my search starts dwindling down, my eyes slide over to a spot tucked away in the corner of the door...bottom shelf, almost hidden for the fact the door doesn't open all the way due to the proportions of the fridge versus the kitchen.   I catch two bottles of water tucked away, for not so obvious reasons I will make known now.  The larger bottle, one litre, is over a year old now, and has been resting in my fridge since an ill-fated day in September.  The night my little drummer girl was supposed to come over, a night that changed things for her.  I suppose I never got rid of that bottle because I could never let go of her; it represents something more; and if I were to remove that from my life, vicariously I'd be removing any possibility, any hope..I'd be removing her, forever...and I obviously don't want that (even given the current situation where that's exactly she wants).

The other bottle, smaller, has been snuggled along that larger bottle, though not as long - it came from a work outing, Family Fun Day; bounce houses, putt-putt, and good times. There were originally two bottles, maybe more but memory serves me to think two placed in my fridge for hydration, that I took home with me from that event.  Maybe another was left in my car or whatever, but two for certain stayed in the fridge.

All that remains is the one, because the other is involved in a conspiracy, a lie..(I really wish I could call it Watergate but that's already been taken...)  You see, the bottle that remains is the sister bottle to the bottle of water I gave a Maker of Shoes, the one whose flavor was flawed, the one I allegedly, though unopened, tampered.

Having no other options I made picked a dumb option;  I took the small bottle with the implication I'd get something from the PX on my break, as this water bottle would quickly disappear....or so I thought.

I make it to class, get settled into my workstation, and before the class even gets underway I crack open the bottle for a drink.  One taste is all it took for my mouth to reject the bottle, pulling my head away and twisting it with confusion to the left.  "What the fuck?" I said aloud, getting the attention of the student on my left.  With his eyes now fixed onto my doings I decide to try again, maybe I just had something in my mouth...but the results were the same.  I'm starting to panic.  I turn and pass the bottle to my left, asking the fellow student to "here, try this" and with no hesitation other than saying why as he puts the bottle up to his mouth, he tries it as well.  "It tastes...off"

There's nothing more than I want to do at this moment than run out of the classroom and leave...but that will do me no good.  And for the next three and a half hours my mind is not in that classroom, not on the information we are going over, but fixated on that bottle sitting in front of me..and everything it represents.

On my break I go back home where I have another person try the bottle...later that evening two more people try a swig...all stating the same thing, some more in-depth about the flavors, but the consensus stands...there's something wrong with the water.

The confirmation from the last sampler is enough to send my mind spiraling downward.  All these horrible thoughts run through my head, suddenly my unquestionable innocence is showing signs of contest.

If the sister bottle is anything like the bottle she drank, than yes, there's something wrong with it...what, I'm not certain..though I know it didn't make me or anyone else sick for that matter.  Of course I don't have any other bottle to test or have tested, and bringing in an opened bottle to test would cause some concern...

I just want this nightmare to be over..I just wish this would all end and go away...I wish she would talk to me..as this is my only way to talk to her..

Truth is like the sun...you can shut it out for a time, but it ain't going away... 

"Last time water was turned into something it was wine, you have nothing to worry about, you're fine..."

Here We Are Again

all alone..

going down the only road I've ever known..

I'm just wasting all this time

I've stared at this screen for over an hour, maybe longer as it seems to have preoccupied my entire night.  The new post page opened, blank, buried in a tab behind one of the millions of others opened that I scan through over and over, hesitating to return.  I'm left with as much ambition to write as I have answers for the questions that perplex me; why?

It seems as though every time my vehicular life starts picking up momentum, shifting out of those sluggish gears and cruising along, leaving behind a devastated fate behind in the dust..all of a sudden circumstance randomly jerks the wheel, and I am left to be flung from my seat, hurling out of control through the air, no control or understanding as it's happening all too quickly..only to hit the blockage in the road I was once travelling happily down...meeting the pavement one more time.

She once said I had horrible luck, yet she never did anything to help it out.

I'm not sure where what went wrong.  what i did. or what i didn't do.  why everything had to change.  especially when things were so good; to me at least.  She says I did nothing wrong, but that is all she could say, all she would say.  I just don't get how everything in my world could take a complete 180 in the blink of an eye.  For a better part of a month or so I was happy, I was living a good life, I had pretty much everything I've ever wanted.  It was good.  

Then, some occur lively events that don't even involve me, on the contrary, those events if anything would have solidified my existence in her life further...but it didn't work out like that....at all.   It's like your best friend wins tickets to a concert and for whatever reason doesn't invite you.  It just doesn't make any sense to me.

And it never will I suppose...I sit at night and try not to rack my brain over such things, but sometimes it's just impossible.  And to think it was just so easy for you to toss me aside, once again, with no justification, no explanation, no real sense of closure hurts even more.

I wish I could elaborate into more, but there's no sense to it...there's only one person that could make things right, and she's not listening.

"you can't just chop up a former relationship into discrete parts and select the ones you want like some sort of fast-food menu..."

Stupid

what

the

fuck, google?!

I hate this new format...it makes me not want to write at all...I don't get it..I've been using blogger since 2002...blogger was bought out by google awhile back...there has been little changes in that decade..subtle things here and there..color schemes, certain formats, the login proces...but now...now...this whole thing kills it for me.

the ease is gone...the design is gone..the creative flow is gone....maybe it means i should be gone as well.  if it's not broken, why "fix" it...there was no need, no demand to change the former layout..

Ugh, I'm sorry, I'm just ranting about something trivial...but, it's an update for you guys...blogger changed their setup, and I hate it...google's mantra is "don't be evil", well, they are failing right now

Maybe I'll use something else...

"Who uses yahoo to search anyways?!"

I'm about to Djokovic

advantage

love

today my subdivision came close to being burned to the ground by me

I woke up not looking forward to work today; so much in fact i fell back asleep after turning off my alarms. Luckily I didn't oversleep and got to work on time...funny that work would soon to be the thing I needed to get away from everything else.

Not sure what got me there, all I know I was one angry individual come lunch...maybe it was the long lines, the long work day, the meddling hands with work, or some random facebook post that i read too deeply into. whatever the case may have been, i was not in a happy place.

if you could graph my level of care on, say, a pie chart..the chart would show a bag of flour and blueberries on a shelf - ...because..i care so little that not even the pie was made....ok...enough...

i'm fading fast, and my health will soon suffer. i need to go.

"fuck it, i quit"

I'm in No Place

fuck

fuck

fuck

I've got a lot on my mind, so much in fact that I'm coming up short with dispensing it in my normal manner such as this. I have all these half thoughts that just bounce around one another - it's like trying to chase after a bug in flight. I need to remove this load from my shoulders, hence, me writing..I will do my best I suppose.

I feel I'm at some sort of crossroads...wait..an intersection...no, that's lame...I feel as if I just pulled into a small subdivision and after a short stint on that main road I have three options...left, right, straight...but as I sit there, seeing the gate close behind me in this 808 complex, I look down each of the roads and see nothing but dead-ends..of course nobody would ever call them that, they hide behind the language of love and say cul-de-sac .

Don't Call it a Comeback

I'm here to stay forever

and ever and a day that's never

I can't let you go

Look, I can sit here and make excuses about this, that, or the other - granted the past three plus weeks have been hectic - the main point isI'm back. We all know there's gonna be a hiatus in the summer months, and then just as all that ends, and September rolls in (bloody bloody September), so does my blogging.

It's a week in and I'm already late on this. Finally there's things to say, but I haven't had the opportunity...so now i'm just making this stepping stone of a blog to get my fingers a little wet, wipe off the dust, break off the rust, and go for the gust...oh

I figure if i knock something out of the way, something such as this, it will give way to something a little more...meaningful. As I said to another fellow blogger (oh, did I mention I got someone to start blogging?!), not every post is going to be a masterpiece, work of art, nobel prize worthy...but think about who you're doing it for..and also think of those as the unofficial important takes on the really good ones. Sure in another world posts like these get deleted - like scenes in a movie, you don't actually follow around the character for every move - and what's left is all diamonds and gold...but the truth is, you have to remove some dirt off before you have that...that necessary dirt is these posts.

So as I stumble over the keys hunting and pecking, trying to formulate my analogies, this is what happens...practice makes perfect, and this is me coming back from the off-season..first games are a little deficient.

but it's ok, certain skills are like certain loves, yo never really lose them.

"Come with me"

Tonight

is gonna be

a rough night

blaaaaaaaaaaetrytjjjdtyh;w6o45qt

Sometimes I wonder why I do this to myself.

Not a Song

free

dumb

Shit.just.got.real.

Sorry, I didn't write you a (love) song, but instead, you shall receive this media of emotion from me..maybe I'll write a sonnet, a haiku, or short story, but for now, this is my response.

Actually...I don't even have a response, I think I'm too outraged to even emulate a reply..however, this will be my riposte to that katy perry claptrap you call music.

**Just to give you an idea of how infuriated I am, I've, already, had to walk away and distract myself several times just to calm down.

And I know the classic line that I'm so vain I probably think that song is about me will fall from dull tongues - but when you know, you know...it's that sense, when you know you're being attacked..that sense when you know you're being talked at/to. Like when you're somewhere, anywhere there's people around, and though someone doesn't say your name, you know they are directing their words at you. It's not the, "hey you in the blue hoodie and Ray-bans" calling you out, it's more of a general "hey, blablabla".

And you almost freeze as you are doing whatever it may be; walking by, standing there, whatever, just thinking, wait, i don't know anyone here, surely that can't be towards me..yet you just know it is. This is one of those times, and though it may not be completely directed or 100% based from me, you can clearly hear my influence in the lyrics throughout the song.

It was proclaimed that despite my thinking my fast car will take me to freedom, i'm actually on a road to hell - if that were the case, I'd prefer a highway, and usually my fast car is fast enough to fly out of here, accompanied with a ticket or plan to anywhere.

And though you may think without your love all I have is a jail cell, well, let me correct you on that one..it's not without your love, because I'm pretty sure your love is what caused for whatever to happen, but mostly, your absolutely bat-shit craziness is what will give me that jail cell. It's not you falling out of love with me that does me harm, rather, it's you flipping a 180, turning your back, and making up horrible, malicious lies that will cage me in.

Ughhh, and there's more bullshit lines, but I just can't even justify a response to what sounds like some hollow, whiney little girl's attempt at revenge through music that was written by a 12 year old with the forced lines, stolen lyrics that sounded cool, and inaneness too unconvincing even for the pop world.

but don't take my word for it, you be the judge http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5KWKWW4kis

"sadly all those views are from my friends laughing at her..."

You

fucking

ruined

me

Sigh, that comment is directed to a number of people, including myself, so don't take it the wrong way. Ehh, I don't feel like going down that path right now, I'm still trying to catch up from this past week, what with the holiday and visitors and all. I guess I just wanted to get that statement out there, get it said. Funny, because almost every night as I lay in bed, right before I pass out I think of a title for my next blog - and they've pretty much all been something along the lines of one word phrases calling someone out on something.

It's sumer, and I don't write much in summer..I guess my mind goes on its own little vacation without me knowing it…maybe its just habitual now after all those years of schooling…may ending the year and the end of august kicking it back off.

I remember hating trying to get back into the grove of things in august..back on a sleep schedule, back on any schedule, back to making your head retain pointless knowledge all the while trying to remember everything you forgot in those few months off.

Maybe summer school would be good for kids..maybe year round school would be good for kids. Of all the archaic institutions in America, it seems silly to still let children off from school during the summer months to tend to the crops. Of course this type of thinking would only anger everyone…wonder why we are listed so low on the most intelligent nations list.

Right now everything in my life and around me is a mess…but not such a chaotic mess..more like that uncomfortable numb acceptance mess…like you're that sock in the washing machine that's just kinda sitting in the middle of things as the center blades churn back and forth. You're getting tugged and pulled in all directions, but it's not violent. You're kinda floating, not really getting sucked down into the mix of things..but you realize, even that would be better than where you are right now…because at least then you'd be doing something. you're just a sock in a washing machine, and nothing is living up to its purpose.

let's hope it's not a pink sock in the whites...

"to today, middle finger response"

This Fucking Cunt

oh this little cunt,

i wouldn't worry about this little cunt

a story about other bitches being crazy

Not sure where to begin as my mood has changed drastically since finding the recent onslaught of insults posted not too long ago. But i'm going to write this, since I know you read this, though you'll probably take a slight hiatus since i called you out on doing such a thing..but here we go.

Actually, I'm still not sure where to begin...you only check my blog to "make sure I'm not being creepy, yet obviously I am"...this statement alone befuddles me, because, now I may not be 100% accurate, but I'd be willing to guess I've never talked about you on here - and just to cover my tracks, if I ever did, it was a long time ago,well before anytime recent..again, if you were ever mentioned. Don't flatter yourself, even as much of a bitch you were, you obviously weren't worth my two minutes of typing.

And delving further with the don't flatter yourself theme...i also didn't talk about you, or talk to people about you, or try to..whatever it is you think. Get off yourself, you're not that fucking special. I think I mentioned something about you one time, this current year, but that's because your name was already brought up..wooooooooooo.

You act like we never talked, or weren't talking for a period of time, or that you asked me to send you a christmas present last year..

Yeah, did I confuse readers now..ok, break for a second. I'll make this brief, so this fucking cunt and I used to talk not too long ago, yadda yadda, then the calendar anews, and like the previous year, she's gone too. Naturally I'm confused, it's as if she got what she wanted, and then ran. I didn't put too much stock into the situation, clearly I had more important things going on..and though we had no personal interaction, I noticed this person still reading my blog...finding that odd I eventually brought it up one day in conversation when somebody else is talking about her..just trying to get a sense of understanding...still coming up empty handed. After that I just let it go, not thinking much of it, not really caring because it was just random and I ignored it. Then I make one comment on twitter and the whole world comes crashing down - i saw lyrics, i replied with the next lyrics..apparently that was cra-zay (said in highpitched voice) and here we are...

So you can take your childish ways, bitch-ass accusations, this ego-centric everything is about you mentality, and get the fuck out of here...leave me alone. Once I saw you were flipping cup and bat-shit crazy, I blocked you, removed you from everything I could..realizing you were just going to bring harm into my life..i don't need that. You're the monster here, not I.

This is the first and last post about you, there's the door, fuck off.

"she must spend a lot of time putting all that make-up on those two faces of hers..."

Accidentally I

sorry

not sorry

hashtag smiley face el oh el hey.

I don't know how I didn't come up with that phrase a long time ago...thinking on it now, I probably did, just never stuck around..and now it's a trending topic on twitter... And before I even get started, what the fuck has been going on with people lately - maybe it's just been an off week for some, but now that summer is here, let's try to roll it the eff together.

And I'm not sure if a certain person is trying to get me to post about them or what, because it sure as hell seems like it to me. SNP has been pushing all the right (or wrong depending on how you look at things) buttons, saying the things, creating a situation all on the ingredient list to fire up my fingers. It's a distraction that has my head displaced more than it should be, more than it can really take.

I'm always so understanding, and that's one of my biggest downfalls..because I let people get away with shit that no person really should. As much as a person I am to not have time for bullshit, being able to walk away from many situations that don't warrant any more effort on my part, it's not always the case. When it comes down to certain people, I unravel their "bullshit excuses" - as deemed by everyone else in the world - and acknowledge obstacles, shortcomings, and essentially collaborate justification for them.

But as the shit builds up, I'm left in a quandary - do I make it down to the lavatory, or do I just shit myself with this one right here. I never know what to do in those situations because by then, I'm in too deep. I'm emotionally pot committed, I swam too far out from shore and didn't save any for the swim back, to back out now would be even more devastating (to myself) than any problems I may actually be incurring in my own life.

There is never an easy answer for this. Backing out at any point to me seems like failure, and I don't fail here. I believe what makes it worse is the fact I believe in the propagandous alibis, the one's I should have said goodbye too long ago. Instead I excuse the excuses, erroneously eradicate reason, reason being is still unrevealed.

I pause.

"the sound the record makes as it changes to the next song..."

Them's Fighting Words..

what are ya...

...chicken?!

The troubles of ordering a twenty piece...

"At least I'm not a rapist!" is suddenly shouted over any other drum conversation, cheering from patio, bad music playing at this party. It's that scene in the movie where it drowns out everything, shuts up everyone, stops everything, even the music skips off track. It echoes...it echoes

Let me pause here for a moment. Those of you who know me, know I do not deal well with being attacked - physically, I can hold my own...but when it comes to words, it always leads to the physical. As "good" as I am with my words, it's not my preferred method to turn to. Sure, words have gotten me out of fights, but they have equally gotten me into them.

And just like Marty McFly, I cannot back down from certain provocations - funny how a character in one of my favorite movies of all time (all time!) learns his lesson, which should be the lesson we all learn from watching, but me..a big pile of 'nopes' is what you get.

I come from the south side of Chicago, chi-ca-ghetto - the heights, and sure it may not have been as bad as other areas, it was still an area wherein my elementary school practiced bomb threats and school shootings more than we did fire drills...and this was before it was "cool."

It was where men settled their differences like men; if you had problems, you solved them. That was the law of the land, the way things were as kids, the way things should still be today. People didn't hide behind things like the internet and police protection - wherein the law enforcement is actually protecting the wrong individuals, as seen in my plight with the O-city efftectives on Wednesday....or kinda like how SoCaliJoshi was first to talk shit, and yet when I confronted via messages how we could settle our discrepancies in person, he was quick to tell me how he was going to print out our conversation and take it to the police..charge me with harassment or threats or some other bullshit.

These later generations are producing more and more internet shit-talkers and bullies, yet, their flame war on their keys is as hard as they'll ever hit something. So keep on doing what you're doing, hiding behind those anorexic pictures, maybe one day they'll be man enough...

People will argue this with me, but I see nothing wrong with a good old fashioned fist-to-cuffs...I'm not saying you can't ever talk shit out - me the believer in communication - but sometimes, the only way to put someone in their place, is putting them there with a little physicality. I was spanked as a child, shit hurt, I'll do the same to my kids, I don't care what the law says..again, society going soft, creating soft individuals.

I've been in my fair share of fights..I've tried to get out of fights, I've tried to start fights, it's life. I'm not some wild hooligan that's always looking for a fight..wherein the slightest thing will set me off...Heck, even certain times I've been provoked I have walked away, it's just the timing or situation I guess.

Like this one time I was with my girlfriend and some angry guy was yelling at me in a parking lot - short story, his girlfriend was driving down the wrong way and I made no effort to get out of the way as it was clearly my aisle, may have even swerved close to teach them a lesson about paying attention...regardless. So this hot-head doesn't like my innocent lesson and decides he wants to take things to another level...he's cursing me out, running through cars and aisles trying to get to me as my girlfriend and I approach the store..

In response I do yell back things such as "Alright" "ok" "whatever" to show I have no interest in him or his cause. Well, he eventually makes his way to me and I just keep heading for the store, I don't have time for this guy...Then, out of no where he hits me from behind - hard enough to disengage my hand holding with the gf, and I fly forward, head down, almost toppling over, but luckily catch myself.

At that point of stopping my forward progression I realize what had just occurred, and in a hero-esque fashion, regaining my balance with my feet firmly planted on the ground, straighten my back, raise my head up, turn around, look the guy who's now a good ten feet away from me square in the eye, and with a chuckle I respond, "Really?" being finished with my half smirk.

I looked over to see my girlfriend wide eyed, and as I made the move extending my hand out to rejoin hers so we could continue with our shopping experience, the aggressor took off back running to his vehicle. I was dumbfounded by the whole situation, and kept asking her if that really just happened..she was in as much shock as I was, if not more, for I remember her stating, "I seriously thought you were going to lose your shit and I'd have to call an ambulance because you were going to kill that guy" and I remember replying frivolously,"He should be happy that he caught me at a rare time."

The asshole tonight would not be so lucky.

The straw that was in my drink moments ago, through the dissonance found its way to the backbone of Joe, who was, by then, on his toes about to fall over this whole ordeal. I don't recall much as it all went by so fast, yet, in the same token, probably played out in slow motion to me then. And after playing it back in my head, I swear it went both ways.

Maybe everything leading up to what I did next was in slow motion...from the time the words were said, to my action, time may have stood still..allowing those horrendous words that verbalized to channel through my ear cannel, bounce around in my brain - enough times for me to realize the gravity of the situation. I swear it repeated, I swear it played over it my head..not just the words some drunk dumbass spewed, but the whole situation..everything. I saw Detective Whatsherface there. I saw her in her monstrous form, badgering me like some sort of criminal. I saw all of my texts pleading for a response. I relived each and every one of those days that went by without an answer. Those passing seconds re-occupied the night of the alleged "incident". It was probably no more than three seconds but it felt like my life flashing before my eyes..and not necessarily my life, but everything that had been involved with this stupid incident.

I stood there paralyzed reliving the past; all the images, the emotions, just everything going by as slowly as it did the first time..floating in a sea of emotion, not really able to free myself...until eventually the playback caught up with the present, dep breath, and from there it went from slow motion to fast forward...before I knew it, I had reacted.

From what I gather, from my broken memory and pieces of the spectators, I retaliated with vengeance. "At least I'm not a rapist!" was spoken - there was a slight pause, the one I relived my life in, and then it was all over. The crowd instantly grew silent, the dj stopping the music to a screeching halt, while the kegs poured no more, mindless conversations whittled to nothing as all eyes were on me. As the crowd lived in their lifetime slow motion, I took a breath, lived mine, and brought the present up to speed quickly.

I turned, without any sense of recourse, without any care, i turned to face my attacker; but as i turned my fist was swinging. Again, this happened all to quickly. My clenched fist flew threw the air without any care of disposition - had it made contact with anyone at that point justice would have been served, however, luckily, no innocent by standers were harmed.

When those six words were shouted to me, it sounded like they were right next to me, whispering loudly in my ear. I pictured them being on the other side of the room due to the fact the person was a giant passive agressive pussy. But luckily for me, this time, as the perpetrator articulately staggered over those words, he also stumbled closer to me...this would be his downfall...actually, my fist would his downfall, his steps towards me were just stupid.

In one swift motion, my fist met his face with a sudden fury and rage...Everything must have been bottled up in that one shot because I didn't even move after that, not a single other punch was thrown, nothing. I connected with my right hand which contained every bit from the past two months I had been trying to hold onto....everything I just relived was put into that swing..everything I just relived in those 3 seconds was harnessed into leveling any falsities.

Apparently one punch was all it took for Mr. Glassjaw to be corrected. My right hook connected and he went down faster than a fat girl on prom night. After the punch I just stood there...I didn't straddle on top MMA style and give kill punches, I didn't spit in his face like some forfeiting father..it all happened too fast I want to think...but then again, maybe it was because of something else.

I destroyed more than just my opponent in that swing..I shut up more than just some asshole spurting out hate..I was putting an end to the lies..to this whole fucked up situation. That punch, that right fist, embodied the truth..and it silenced any slanderous accusations that were coming against me.

I'm going to continue fighting, because that's what I know to do...because it's easier to make up lies than believe in the truth..and if some fucked up person wants to say otherwise, well, there's gonna be hell to pay.

"I think he just took his wallet"

Five Hours Later

W

C

because you don't get it...

Well, I'm making this post a little late...it should have been posted last...err, this morning...but i went to bed shortly after everything, even though i wasn't tired..and in the morning..since when do i make morning posts?

So you get this now..i'll back track the time for the ninth...so Happy Birthday, this one is for you ;-) Did I just use a frickin emoticon in my blog, ugh..

Anyway...I wish I could say everything I wanted to...but obviously this catches your attention so I won't..last night, or this morning..or whenever we ended our conversation you wanted to know what was on my mind...For once in my life I did not want to make things awkward..for once in my life I fought hard on picking the right words to say, as to not say too much...which only caused me to sound unconfident in my words...

there was more..so much more...but that's neither here nor there...I want to say a lot..I want to tell you everything, but, I just can't. That ship has sailed, and I don't know how to swim back to you.

maybe one day..you'll know everything..maybe one day you'll see you like I see you..maybe you'll get it..but that's hope..and I never liked her

and now i have to be careful what i say in here..cuz i guess every now and then you read..and i don't want to ruin what we have.

if i can't have you as a lover, i'll take you as my friend..and if i can't have that....well

"ethereal"

I Think I'm Supposed To Do Something

but I won't

so deal

I'm too tired to give any fucks...

This will be short and sweet..I've got some things I should (probably not) say..I guess I said some things last night in a phone call...and I've been like a train raping these jokes.

Quick story: Last night...ok, back it up some more...Sunday morning I woke up and said, I'm gonna need (want) a nightcap tonight..such a weird request, especially so early...well, much later I made good on my request to myself and conjured up a drink..a horribly made make-shift margarita..but I drank it regardless. Of course after finishing that one, I needed something to wash that flavor out, so I made another, a different drink.

So 1am rolls around and the movie a friend and I have been trying to watch goes on pause for the millionth time - I make some callback to a scene that happened half an hour ago..this conversation then rears into anal sex - again, don't ask me how it got in there, it just did. So as the debate goes on, I naturally go to my anal expert...an ex-gf that has on multiple occasions, and with multiple men, allowed herself to be penetrated in the caboose (I am on that very list..)

I know what you're thinking, it's a horrible idea, but nobody's stopping me and I'm not sure why...but maybe they will in the future after they see how things go down in the end...The call actually starts off nicely, I get and leave a voicemail..sure it's 1am here, but it's 4am on the east coast, makes sense. I'm rambling about this and that, all is well, until..I don't know exactly what it was, but something just clicked in my head..maybe my "nice" reserves had finally been sucked dry, I had given this former friend too many chances..trying to make things work...

As the last bit of compassion was drained from my affable canister in the first half of that voicemail conversation, my attitude had to start drawing from somewhere else...that would be the pit of real emotion I had been biting back on. I don't even recall a transition, it just switched gears without hesitation. I mentioned how this person defriended a friend of mine, but at least that friend got a message as to why..me on the other hand, was left empty.

From there my words were drenched in sarcasm, thanking her for stealing my dog, followed by insults, to my breaking point. Still holding back from really letting go, for the sake of the company I was in, end it with "You're a fucking cunt" *laughter* **hangs up** And as I put down my phone I repeated that fulfilling line finishing with "I hope she enjoys that" - words of love, punch drunk.

No surprise I never got a response, but I was able to get that out there. And I may sound like a complete asshole, but again, I'm too tired for this, so if she cries herself to sleep at night because of it, I won't lose any myself.

none.

"A: Well, what did she do that was so horrible?

M: She just wanted to be with me?"

Never Cheat a Friend

is it better to truthfully forget

or to willfully ignore

I shoulda known better

I should have known that when I didn't hear from you on my birthday things weren't right. Sure, I've never been one to really put stock into my birthday (my stupid birthday); but others do, and others do as they want done to them..and so they will make it known. Receiving a call or even a text is just common courtesy.

My life always has a way of finding itself back to this certain situation; wherein girl and I break up, shortly thereafter my birthday pops up, and it's anybody's guess as to whether will she comment or not. Of course my birthday always falls first, and depending on her reaction will give clearance to mine. Some of my ex-girlfriends birthdays have even been so close as to fall just days after mine - always making for one, largely ignored week.

But whether you forgot or just didn't care (which are essentially the same thing) doesn't really matter at this point, the fact remains, the deed has been not done, and why are we fooling anyone, it's always the latter.

And with your birthday now rapidly approaching I feel a bit of tension in my decision making. I know what day it is, I can't play like I forgot - for forgetting is for the careless, the ones who whisper sour somethings..and I have never been one of bad taste. You'll know (just like I knew) when you don't receive that message from me, and you'll feel how I felt, but you'll also know I did it out of spite; and that's what doesn't settle for me right.

For once in my life I don't want to burn red with young maleficence influenced by some planetary motion...and that brings me to a rams head. I don't want to not contact you out of crossness, yet I don't want to contact you, period.

And the latter isn't because of absence of attention..well, wait..actually it is...I was trying to say my fading out wasn't a fuming rebuttal, that I wasn't doing this out pessimistic passion..but rather, because we, you, have made a clear distinction in the unavailability with each other, me.

It's not necessarily because I care less, rather, it's because you do.

"Giving up and letting go are not the same thing..i'm just having trouble sorting out the definitions right now..something something special...something..."

BBC,

the angry post you thought it was about

was not actually who it was

all that and more, coming up next

For lack of beter words, apparently I got carried away last night...but I think it was for the better.

There's nothing like having your crazy ex-gf decide to randomly cut of all ties with you for the hundredth time and also seeing another ex-gf look absolutely amazing...standing next to her douchebag boyfriend she replaced you with. All the troubles I've been adding into my list this weekend. I'm going to go off on a limb and say the stalker ex-gf that I have been doing my community service with has been doing what she does best, reading up on every little thing I shit out online. no, I'm flattered, don't get me wrong..some of my favorite exes are crazed fans of mine...(thanks for all the hits girls) But, it looks as though, they couldn't handle what I had to say, naturally. So enjoy my dog, you anal loving slut.

You may think I'm angry from that last statement, nah, just getting in my last laugh..ahhh, ok..maybe not last laugh, I'll be referencing that dognapper from here til eternity...but eventually she'll have moved onto cats..

repetition...the other lady, with whom still holds a place in my heart, is doing her best to find her way out..whether this is intentional or not I'm not sure...but then again, she knows me better than most of my exes so she must realize that being incomunicado is not the way I work. so maybe all is lost there as well.

It's a sad day when someone who cant give up on anything gives up on you. Imagine the sea just suddenly stopping from crashing into and kissing the shore after time and time again being rejected...obviously, you're a beach and I'm waving goodbye.

The advice you gave is coming back to bite you..but maybe that's what you secretly wanted all along..whatever, it's whatever...and as much as i can't stop thinking about you, i guess i need to..and that's why I'm selling the pony, it only reminds me of you..she never really was mine to begin with, and neither were you.

But it's nice to know that, even though your ex-girlfriend is sexier than sliced bre-wait..sliced bread isn't sexy..that makes no sense at all..hmm, ok..ex-girlfriend is sexy, go. So ok, it's nice to know that she's obviously the bread-winner in that relationship...and that anyone you don't ask will tell you that you're, or me rather, is a lot more attractive than her replacement guy...but all my exes love to pick uglier men..there's an actual collage of these accepted rejects, and it ain't pretty.

but I guess that just proves that looks aren't everything, at least to my exes..glad I'll always be the 'pretty boy' in their lives..that their kids will question years down the road and ask, "he's hot, why didn't you stay with him?!" to which their stupid mother will have to say something along the lines of.."because I'm a dumb whore Talitha."

Alright, now I'm just getting a little high on myself....but I mean it's hard not to when I have 100% of the audience polled giving the number one answer as, well, listed above...

I may be getting carried away again, and I may just be rambling..which is a horrible attempt to cover my exploits from last night...I'm posting real thoughts that shouldn't necessarily be on the internet..posts in the raw..call back anyone?

I'm supposed to be posting worthwhile shit every three days...this has been 4 posts in 24 hours..that's not productive, that's messing with nature...like, well, i'm too drunk to come up with the intellectual wording of it all, but those farms that create headless chickens..whatever, all that jazz...I'm just producing stuff to say I did something I guess, fail.

So there you have it..an update to a rant to an emotion that boiled over and burst through all the while still not coherent enough to know whether or not it was mother's day today or not..but that's a different story and we just met...

water anyone?

"I wished that you cared. I don't know if you ever really did and that's why i can't say "still."