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[ artillery and stupid excuses ]
Stop what youíre doing. Write this down: ďWhat do I want from the coming year?Ē Follow that with a few bulleted sentences that clearly state your goals for 2007. Iím just kidding! Life is short, too short to be meticulously planned or segregated into steps. In fact, what are you doing here? You should be out with someone you love, drinking, partying, fucking, eating omelettes. Yours is not to question. Yours is to enjoy. This coming year, resolve to spend less time doing what the world commands--do what you enjoy. And try to get to the gym more often, fatty.
We made breakfast today at work, in a team of three. Four electric griddles periodically tripped the breakers, but we were determined to make the eggs and bakey happen for everyone. This is what togetherness and teamwork are all about--each of us coming to understand severe dehydration through shared experience. I learned how to create copious amounts of eggs-and-cheese, fry up two pounds of sausage, and how to wolf down as much of that on a biscuit as possible in thirty seconds. Today was my 2nd, and you wonít find me anywhere else. Many thanks to those who enjoyed today.
The first day of my weekend before I go to school to learn to lead the unwashed masses. I went out last night with old friends, always now with a bittersweet tinge: Iím not long for this city. I have the Ďshort syndromeĎ and Iím not afraid to tell everyone that the things I complain about will not bother me much longer. Excitement and fear are common when you know youíll likely never see a place again--Iíve conquered continents before, and Iíll do it again. There is a certain peace when you know youíre at home anywhere in the world.
Wash today away with rain and all you will find is wet concrete and good walking weather. Overcast, slightly misty, and 50 degrees. You will not see many who call that ideal, but for a Continental mind, that is just about the best you can expect. Think about the determination in your spirit, struggling to keep out the cold and wet. Uphill battles are the most honorable, because one must give all, to overcome insurmountable odds. Never mind the outcome; what is most important is that you fought. Few will know the beauty of fighting when all is already lost.
Two soldiers were eating, trying to stay awake on guard duty. One soldier asked to trade pudding for applesauce. They reached an agreement, and a sniperís bullet killed the first as the second reached down to get his applesauce. Moments just like this one are the reason we should not be sending more men to the desert to die for a cause the American public no longer believes in. We remembered this at the polls last year, now itís time to remind our elected officials what we expect of them. Donít forget to write your congressperson to speak your mind.
America, give up your whorish ways. Everything we do revolves around dollars, and there are no longer trees to climb or unspoiled streams to swim. We canít fish or hike without a permit, and you wonít let us be entertained without retail gain. This cacophony of cash registers and coins is buying our souls and chaining us, each and singly, to the teat of nondescript consumerism. Nothing but pimps and whores in contemporary society, and we are all to blame for the hubris that riches bring us. Never mind, just go walk around Wal-Mart, youíll find something to entertain yourself.
Moved about today in a stupor, listening, watching, reading, feasting. You wonít guess that I am a productive member of society. I didnít buy anything, pay for any service, consume anything other than food that sat in my fridge. I tried to find a sacred flute journey, but we didnít have a flute. Today is wasted on the living, and the dead can never have it back. Maybe the future will figure out a way to refrain from losing the hours each day allotted to their entertainment. Or maybe the future will devote them to video games and Taco Bell.
Looking over the documentation today, I realized that this cannot be the life I ordered; it looked a lot less action-packed and exciting in the catalog picture. I was going to order the Popeís life, but that was way too boring--no sex. I thought about the life of an actor, but Scientology is really quite silly and foolhardy, I could never keep from laughing outright. I almost ordered da Vinciís life, but he was already dead (and we know how that turns out). I guess mine will have to do for now. But Iíll keep examining the catalog for updates.
I cheated the world today of another great work of sanguine love. You, and I mean that in the plural sense, will never know the singular pity I feel for your children today. Today was an adulation unlike a bike ride in the ghettos west of the Seine. Sitting idly by while the world continues to pass, and never can you get back those ten hours--lost forever. Look to the west, and you will see the bright spot in your day, shining haphazard and quiet, with an easy smile for the clinical skies and a soft face for the world.
believe, i watch you
hair pulled back and eyes bright with
interior joy, i donít feel the
emptiness and numb inside
so familiar these last few years.
who would i be if i didnít
thank you for this wonder
again in my heart and mind?
but embarrassed into quiet
and shy with our acquaintance,
iím bold based on not knowing the people around.
i donít know how i can describe you
ďwhen you pulled your hair back,
i was lost and didnít know how to think.Ē
tell me it canít be,
i can run away into the world.
this morning i woke to watch
nothing on the television
but listen to frou frou while drinking coffee
checking news and being a generally informed
vaguely warm inside and tired,
this is a paradise i do not wish to leave
and each day spend hours maintaining a household
where i am not really a part.
soon i am departing for work,
loud music in the morning to shock my brain
into the routine of another day
just like the last.
the same thoughts in my mind each day,
this american dream banal
and rushing straight home to eat
a summary of waking up to the drunken trashings of my girlfriend, the alcoholic:
1. 17 beer bottles, empty, arranged on, under coffee table
2. lettuce, cheese, mustard, bread crumbs strewn across the kitchen counter and floor
3. ashtray brimming, 23 butts, copious ashes across coffee table and living room floor
4. dvd shelves mysteriously moved from entertainment center to other side of room
5. doors left unlocked overnight
6. 12 dvdís uncased, left piled near recliner
7. bottle of peppercorn ranch dressing shoved between sofa cushions
8. sofa covering disheveled
9. food particles dropped everywhere on, in, around sofa
think high school with extra attitude, and youíll have the local scene. a steroid-fueled gay weightlifter party, thatís the impression that i always get. what the hell is wrong with small towns?
went to the bar with a few well-adjusted people, and i couldnít say all that i wanted to say.
saturday night with new friends, and all i can do is stare?
sometimes, i think i might not be cut out for this strapped-in life. i might need to learn how to read minds. going to bed, maybe iíll read some before i sleep.
thereís lots to do tomorrow.
dear god. itís sunday--letís talk. i trust you most gracious this day, believe in your works and your intents. help me to understand the cold dealings and hard-hearted feelings of the evil minds. help me to love most the unloved, and to bring good things to your creation and each individual soul. today i want to thank you for all the gifts iíve received, and ask for help in using my talents to inspire good in those i influence. be with me through the good times and the bad; iíll be there for those who need a friendly hand. amen.
i was not everything expected, nor was i failed at the starting gate. i can be there for any disquiet, stand up to the challenge and itís all a matter of numbers. am i better than any four or five people around me? i say, yes to that. one might call that conceit, but i call it confidence--i know that i can get by on only my wits and lingering dreams. i can solve any problem set before me, showcase talents i didnít know i had. but you will all know, in the end, and that is whatís really important.
he couldnít say about the way she looked, hair pulled back like sunshine and wishing she would smile, wink, do something. he may have been the most natural observer in the world, catching and interpreting more than he probably should. lost in ripe connection with the miniscule things of the world, so thoroughly captivated that he often forgot critical tasks.
he thought she moved smoothly, drinking from the pitcher and smiling bright at funny jokes (tho that may have been the alcohol talking). there might be something there, something between them. several times, he thought, did a moment just pass?
nothing to remark about a wednesday, simple gray and cold. another day older, another day wiser.
heíll look inside himself to gauge the responses of others, to wonder, what did they mean? another wednesday and heíll find himself just that much closer to thursday. friday will come, and heíll drink hard, play harder, and there will be no waking up early on saturday nor sunday. maybe eggs on sunday. but today is only a wednesday, and there was nothing to remark. except that, she asked him if he was going out saturday night; if so, could she go with him?
things to do when youíre alone and bored:
1. video games
3. call some good-looking girls
4. make a (homemade) pizza
5. take a nap
6. write about the past week
7. read a book
8. masturbate furiously
9. take a walk downtown to get some coffee
10. update your myspace profile
11. be all that you can be
12. go play some pool at a bar
13. enjoy the silence
14. reflect on what a loser you are
15. clean your kitchen
16. change your oil
17. study something
18. learn a new language
great workouts at the gym begin with anger. you need an anger deep and strong to push out the energies. you get to the gym, throw on the headphones; walk into the sauna to warm up and stre-eeeeeeetch your muscles. this is 110% necessary. when you work out five or six days a week, you really canít afford to hurt a muscle. you canít really expect to go in there at 100% of your capacity more than once or maybe twice a week, either. thatís fine--just operate at 80%, and youíll be fine. the important thing is to have fun.
last night, went out to a club packed with women. cold night with plenty of alcohol in my system, iím always able to tell them what i feel.
i danced supreme with another manís girl, danced dirty and flippant. thatís never been my style, but it might be time for a change, you know? iím ready for so much change in the near future, ready to go again alone to where i need to be. iím ready to be lost in the world, ready to feel again what it means to conquer.
iíll be back tonight. stay classy, san diego.
she grabbed me to dance in front of the piano
eyes bright voice low
this was my daydream each day, furtive glances
drunk she quietly asked twice to sleep next to me
snuggled in close to my neck arms legs wrapped
tight around me
slips her fingers around mine tells me
this is nice
all i can think is joyous happy and nervous
called her today to thank her for cuddling up to me
asked her to do it again sometime
she was so excited, so happy bubbly and
enthusiastic about being close to me
and my heart flutters wildly
Ask the world what it wants from you, you cannot choose where you go.
But you do. Make your own luck, have your own adventure. Be intrepid. You think itís going to be all a loss, but you find yourself out until five in the morning with someone intriguing and attractive. Ask her away, donít be a fool. Tell yourself you are something. Tell yourself you are someone. No one judges you like you.
You never know who will walk next into your life, nor where you will have to separate your paths. Be intrepid. Itís important most of all.
where has all the passion gone?
looked in the attic
across the street
around the corners of the mind
looked at the faces of friends
at cliffs and rivers
at the eyes of a dog
into the eyes of a beautiful girl
around the house
in the trunk of the car
on the discovery channel
in the my documents folder
in the trash can
in collected notebooks
at the clouds
in a hemingway short story
along the crack of my own ass
in the laughter of friends
at the face in the mirror
im afraid iíve gone numb
i was on the paris banlieue train. i donít remember what station. i was drunk, looking for a bathroom.
random guy, dressed like an american thug (as opposed to a french racaille); asked him if he knew where the toilet was.
ďno, man, i donít speak that french shit.Ē
ďiím american too! what the fuck are you doing out here all alone at night?Ē
ďwaiting for my girlfriend.Ē
ďi donít suppose you know where the bathroom is?Ē
what the fuck was he doing out there? it was way out in the suburbs. i wonder where that kid is now.
Do you think weíll ever be normal, together?
Iím pretty sure that we will always be secretly in love, and there wonít be anything we can do to just let it go.
Sat on the train with you, discussing a religion I now embrace. I was idealistic, young. Thought I knew everything about the world, about how I could put everything into little compartments and assign names to them all and be the most aloof. What were you? The new girl. I was idealistic, young. What the hell did you want with me?
What could anyone ever want with me?
i keep feeling the curve of your soft ass against me keep thinking about how you fit so well in the curve of my body why did you ever come to me i so joyless lone gregarious you being the probably exact wrong pick of course for me i attached to you tried to catch your eye but what the fuck what the hell i cannot still be everything to everyone and sometimes my perception works sometimes it does not but i do not know what to tell you since you met me at an inopportune time in my life
some shit happened the other day when she asked me why i did not want to be more for her why i was so reserved and did not push myself onto her but all i could say was i do not want to start anything i cannot finish and i did not tell her i refuse to be the man who takes rudely or the man who would not be a gentleman or that i think my passion in life has gone numb and i am afraid that i cannot feel feelings anymore and i am so worried and scared
my birthday is a few days away and i have never liked birthdays or christmas because birthdays are always forgotten and some kind of celebration of me when i do not necessarily think i should be celebrated because who am i to be held up high
today is sunday i think sundays are wasted on a useless exercise of futility since you are merely counting the hours until work and all you can really do is sit on the sofa watching the history channel i tell you that sundays make me feel like life is going in fast forward
he was flattered when some strange australian girl asked him for directions at le carousel du louvre, making moony-eyes and tits puffed-out as she stared.
he was confused lost when on a date with the first love and could never reconcile how he lost her, or how she made him feel in st. louis when his breathing ragged and a supple kiss on the lips made him barely alive.
he was probably the only living boy in paris when he first tasted her smiling joyous midnight after a drunken party walk home at mateoís house on the living room floor.
how to tell
so afraid i
didnít want to
fall in love
or be mad
raving and promising
world heart honesty
faithfulness fidelity passion
told her i didnít want to get involved, didnít want to get attached and make my life harder iím leaving soon enough to the other side of the planet and iíll probably never see her again it saddens me, but what can i do?
each day now i maintain what i have and try to live life with honor and dignity but the bulb of fire in my heart has gone out and i search frantically.
welcome to my birthday it has been a great one and this is actually probably one of the best in the past five years they made me a cake and there was a luncheon and i think a small asian girl slapped my ass but i cannot be sure they bought me a blow-up doll a cd of journeyís greatest hits and a copy of top gun on dvd now howís that for a birthday?
but itís lonely when you no longer have the girlfriend to be there for you i could use a birthday blowjob and thatís my birthday
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