2012年4月30日 Poor choice

This morning I was watching the news, and they showed the photo of a kid who tragically died by getting hit by a bus. The family apparently supplied this photo of their now dead eleven year old son.

"I tried to 'catch a bus.' It caught me!"

Seriously. If your son dies from a bus, would you supply a photo like above?

Now don't get me wrong! I'm not angry, disappointed or shocked. I think it's fucking hilarious! It sucks the parents lost their son, but the picture paints an even stronger feeling of emotion: laughter, and happiness. So yeah, I'm happy they put this photo up, because it reminds me that this kid regardless of being a "good kid" or not, he looked like he had a sense of humor. We need more people with a sense of humor, or foots will go up asses [URL].

You can read the full news article here (URL), or by clicking read more below.

2012年4月29日 Loose-leaf

Things around us

Over the years, almost a decade now?
Anyway, for almost a decade I've written often.

Sometimes I've wrote about life, death, dreams, short (and shitty) stories, fiction, non-fiction, domestic violence, depression, suicide, happiness, animals, ninjas, and whatever else I could think of.

I guess it also falls under "is it fiction" but most, if not all, of the IIF stuff I write is strictly for this blog alone. I have a label called "FTB" called "From the book(s)". Well actually it should also include loose-leaf papers, because this morning I found one.

Here it is,

When I first kissed another woman, long after we had ended I knew my heart would never let you go. My lips became metal tacks and broken glass, the fluids became warped & soupy. I felt like I was going to vomit, the tar being pushed down my throat. It was my tongue, & hers. A sunflower started growing out of her mouth into mine, as my lips tore into the flower. Pleasure, pain, & joy. Nothing that would signify having a soul existed. I could feel & see the flower's fluid dripping down on our chins.

It was black like my own tar tongue fluid. Soupy, it tasted like a 9-volt & blood. Her eyes had electric eels swimming in her pupils. 

I woke up after being vomited out a shark with a beak. 

I saw a man holding a shotgun to his stomach, one he fired & blew his guts & intestine out I could see children behind him with their mouths open, catching the blood & guts with mouths that opened as high as my eyes. 

He turned the shotgun on me & fired a trident at my forehead. I felt full, & refreshed with vigor, until an Eagle perched on the trident then flew me away over a volcano of boiling spiders. The island volcano was a giant tarantula of lush forests, trying to float in an ocean of sand & blood. 

The Eagle wiggled the trident out of my skull & I could see photographs of you flying out of my eyes, mouth, & wound. 

I fell up, as if jumping into the volcano. 

The spiders feasted upon my body, while the spiders eating me were being eaten by other spiders. 

When I woke up I was sideways in the shower, breathing blood, steam, air, & hot water.

I saw an unhappy man looking at me, then I remembered you crying.

My body felt hotter than the water. 

When I saw a flash from the man,

I woke up in a bed next to the woman, & I cried because it wasn't you.

2012年4月28日 "Hungarian Delight"

Hungarian Delight is a guy I met in Japan. He's extremely knowledgeable and his command of English is amazing. Tall, muscular, pious, and trained in martial arts I figured we'd get along great since he likes death metal. We've chatted about most things regarding life since meeting, and of course also a lot of drinking. And meeting again to drink. This guy likes to drink, but not as much as I do. He's incredibly patient and doesn't judge a book by it's cover, or rather lack of cover.

Here we are drinking

Case in point, we were playing a drinking game out of checkers, and some troll was making a terrible sounding noise with a balloon. I looked over and said as nicely and calmly as possible, "Could you please stop making that noise it really really bothers me." She ignored me, so I continued this time with a little more gusto, 

"Please stop making that noise. I've asked you nicely. I've told you it really bothers me. If you continue, I will go get a pen or a knife and I will stab your balloon." 

When she didn't quit I got up calmly asked a Russian guy by the sink for a knife. He at first wasn't going to hand it to me, but I promised him I wouldn't hurt anyone (intentionally). With knife in hand I went to sit down. I said, putting the knife down in front of me, 

"I've already asked nicely, apparently nice isn't enough. Don't fuck with the balloons or I'll fucking stab it."

I thought I was being polite. I refused to turn over the knife when people got defensive and concerned. I said if they're concerned, I'll leave, but I'm wasn't giving up the knife until the balloons were gone.

Later that evening after all the commotion was over with, Hungarian Delight later told me that he was having fun and didn't really seem concerned at all. Apparently these things happen often in Hungary, along with a high-as-the-sky suicide rate. 

We became good friends after that. I think he appreciated my no-bullshit attitude, or rather maybe he was entertained? Maybe it's because my English is the easier to understand, something he complimented me on. Actually, a lot of people have told me my English is easy to understand. But I digress. 

Here are some Hungarian Delight-isms

HD on principles, humanity and cruelty

Hungarian Delight: Oh I know about that, and back to the theoretical topic: I agree with you on that. Principles need to exist because that is what makes us different from animals. Basically nature is the most cruel thing on this planet and humans are the only beings able to elevate from the struggle [of] survival.

HD on spirituality and meditation

HD:  Meditation is good for confronting with yourself, but it has nothing to do with society. [U]nfortunately a lot of people are thinking that the "eastern wonders" like meditation will help them overcome the difficulties [of life]. What the fuck do they think? Are all the people in Asia happy? Retards.

[emphasis mine]

HD briefly on responsibility

HD: That's why you're a humanist :) You think all the people think about things like responsibility and so on.

Me: Most people are utilitarians. I'm not.
HD: but a lot of people are so simple that they simply cannot understand the meaning of "responsibility"

 

HD telling me we won't always talk about everything

HD:  It is so simple. I'm sure you could find a topic I wouldn't rather discuss

Me:  Of course.

Like space-docking

It's when a man shits in a woman's vagina.

And not a wet-shit or Italian-greasy shit.

I mean, large [a] redwood tree or something.

This happens a lot in Turkish bath-houses.

The steam acts as a natural lubricant.

See, I can't imagine you're thinking, "Well, time to eat dinner!"

HD:  Your ability of incepting disturbing mental images is as great as it ever was[.]

---

I long for the day where I can drink until a stupor with HD again.

2012年4月27日 "Does that mean you've got to lose?"

I was talking to him over the phone about what happened with my sister, and that's when he started to verbally hunt against my mom.

"You know your sister learns that kind of shit from your mother."

Deer season has officially opened. I thought.

"You know it's funny you say that about her, she's actually changed. I mean, we have strong evidence that for the last 5 years she's been completely sober.

So let me ask you this, what have you done? Have you quit drinking? Have you changed at all? No, no you haven't. But that's the thing, you don't need to change.
You know who you are, don't you?

I paused just briefly enough to switch back on him.

My mom, needed to change, but she had to find that on her own.
Speaking of which, have you ever thought about suicide?"

I said reflecting his own judgement and standards on his own behavior.
Without hesitation in his voice whatsoever I heard an immediate and resounding,

"Yes."

I was caught a little off guard, because the same man who accused my mother's background as the reason for my sister's desire for suicide, also had thought about suicide on his own. Albeit his reasons for such seemed to be more shame based, according to what he said after that. But frankly speaking, anyone who wants to commit suicide, does it because of shame, guilt, fear, etc. Fear being a big one.

No, I suppose I wasn't really caught off guard by that alone. I was primarily caught off guard because of the directness. The full-blown honesty that didn't carry an in-your-face attitude or "none of your business". It made me feel like he's come full circle, or damn it, he's trying and has no choice but to advance. Maybe he learned something, something he didn't say. Something I didn't pick up.

I should probably call him again if I want to know.

2012年4月26日 Suicidin'

Three days ago I saved a quote that I thought I was going to use for a blog post title,

"Everyone loves you, when you're about to die"

I guess I felt "Suicidin'" to be a better title.

 

Last night I found out my sister was in the ICU of a local hospital, because she tried to commit suicide by OD on medicine. It's kind of annoying and alien. I don't mean annoying because my sister in the hospital. No. It's alien she's in the hospital and I don't really feel anything. It's annoying to me that I don't feel anything. Maybe it's because I'm dealing with my own self-misery and unhappiness? Who knows? At present I'm not trying to figure that out, nor do I need to. 

But one thing is for certain and that is I'm not doing well, and I would be lying if I hadn't thought about these issues at least once over the past couple of months jokingly or otherwise.

What's frustrating is that I don't always have the appropriate medium to talk about these issues. I don't have anyone right now to talk about how I feel about my sister trying to kill herself. I don't always, or don't, have access to the friends and people I'd like to talk to when shit like this happens. Shit like this happens, and I'm just dealing with it until the weekend when I can unload it all. If I can. Why should I have to wait until the weekend? Well, I'm single and all of my friends have jobs, families, and/or are in other states. 

I actually don't think companionship would really change anything, because I'd probably have some whiny bitch telling me to to stop worrying about it, or to just stop talking about it. Neither of which is realistically going to happen when I'm concerned or excited about something. 

I'm a talker, and to talk about, at, and through things is important to me, unless I white-out or faint because I'm being stabs by needles. Surely most of my friends know that, and most of them would think of it as odd or extremely depressing if I were to mope around in silence.

She's alien to me. That's the worse part about this situation. She has a family, a husband, and two kids. Even then, she tried to kill herself. She's so alien to me, that the only way I can relate is to deviate from her as the subject and relegate her position to that as a point of reference, while I talk about what I'm interested in or my experiences, etc.  

I don't really know her that well, and maybe that's the problem. Actually, I don't think it's a problem, because at this point I don't know her and to know her is like getting to know a stranger that I'm sure I won't always get along with (and I don't mean general disagreements). I've tried. It's like talking with distant cousins for the first time in years. "Uh... I don't really know who you are anymore..."

I guess if I were to say there is a lesson, the lesson is that a family, a home, and children might not be enough. Certainly for my sister it's not enough, even though everyone else might say, "Family matters a lot!" Compared to what? Compared to wanting to die? Compared to freedom from pain? Family members are just people that, no bullshit, could or will end up hating you or leaving you. I've seen countless families where fathers abandon their sons and daughters. Daughters and sons hate their miserable mothers. Even if those things don't happen the sons or daughters end up hating or cursing their parents anyhow. Loved too much, or too little. Too high of expectations, too little? Too much value on career, and not enough on character? These things happen regardless of whether or not I see them or write about it.

So why are we here anyway?
You might not want to ask me right now.

2012年4月25日 "I feel dizzy-- I'm whiting out..."

Stop being such a pussy!

The nurse looked at me and said, "Do you want to look away?"

"No. No, I have to watch while you do it." I said shaking my head.

"Most people look away." 

"I imagine things are worse if I look away." I said to her.

So she gave me the flu shot, without any problems. Then after that, the following test was to take my blood. I said if I don't watch, like I did with the flu shot, I might faint.

"Don't worry I'll keep you up to date on how I feel." I assured her.

The needled went in, and for a minute solid on my left arm they looked for a vain. I continued breathing just hoping to get it over with, staring at them and the needle as it wiggled around my vain. I didn't really mind at first.

Things changed when they switched arms to get my blood. That's when I started to feel sick. At first I got really hot and started sweating bullets. "Keep breathing." I heard several times. Soon, I started to feel a little nauseous.

"I feel dizzy-- I'm whiting out."

Immediately after I said that I was out. I literally don't even remember what happened next or slumping over. I woke up looking at the ceiling with 5 female lab staff, nurses, and or whatever their title is all around me. Heaven has fat chicks, just warning you guys. Thankfully I'm not bothered by that, because it's not my choice, and they were nice to me. Bringing me orange juice was also a bonus. Besides if heaven has uppity bitches, what's the fucking point? Anyway, I didn't remember slumping over, getting on my back, or anything. I'm sure they were just about to do stuff to me or they were looking for a sharpie. That's about the time when my eyes fixed on them.

"Are you okay? Just take a deep breath."

"I feel kind of heavy. Did you finish?"
I really just wished this whole thing was over. And I wanted breakfast.

"No, I had to pull out when you started to slump over."
Haha, she had to pull out. Depending on what I would be doing, I might not have pulled out.

I got back to business,
"Are we able to finish or?" They looked at me like I was insane.

"Well, let's give you a moment to breathe. Drink some orange juice."

"Thanks. Well, I'd like to continue since I'm awake now." Which basically means, let's rock'n'roll lady, the show must go on.

"Yes, but we don't want you to get sick." Fair enough. They waited about 2 minutes before continuing.

Then they switched back to my left arm, and took my blood quickly without any problems. I felt a little sick when I left, but otherwise alright.

"I hope I didn't panic any of you. I did warn you at least!" I said smiling.

"And we're grateful you warned us!" Yes, yes you are.

I'm good at warning people.

Unfortunately some people take my warnings with little or no seriousness because they think I might be joking. Bad idea!

They were very nice to me, and like always I tried to talk myself through it since I'm not really into needles in my body.
Masks and shit? No problem.
Seeing blood? No problem.
Stab me with metal? Fuck!!!

2012年4月25日 Ninja-action

Ninjas rule, just like tacos

I was running through a garage and then backyard. This was a transition from earlier, when I was scaling some kind of tower with ropes and removing some kind of box. The box was about a 1/3s the size of a shoe box. It was important and but I can't remember if I took it with me. I think I ended up taking it. 

In the backyard I jumped onto a trampoline and then landed on top of a fence. I ninja-sprinted on the barely-wider-than-a-small-woman's-palm fence and then jumped onto a roof of a house. This house also had a trampoline, which I used to jump onto another roof.

I got off at some point doing a roll to disperse the impact. I was trying to cross a cul-de-sac when I saw two people approaching. They were kids on medium sized horses. They saw me and I threw at least 5 smoke bombs in front of myself and towards them. They looked scared and charged past me. I ran to a road which looked familiar and I ended up throwing massive amounts smoke into the road.

A police cruiser came at some point, and I threw a flash-bang at it, then ran off.

That's when I woke up.

I don't believe dreams mean shit, but it's 2 AM.

I didn't see any ninja movies within the last 24 hours. I didn't talk about ninjas. I didn't look at ninja anything as far as I'm aware of. Also, I didn't even look at the below picture until after I woke up from my dream. So where some of its influence came from I have no idea.

If it is a dream with meaning, it means that I'm trying to do something without telling anyone, and/or I'm taking an unconventional road towards some kind of goal, requiring special skills. Regardless of such, it's also my dream and if I want to be a fucking* ninja in my dreams, I will be.


The shitty part was that I didn't do any awesome ninja killing action like in the video below.

*Wrong kind of ninja
This is the closest thing I could find to what I felt like I had in the dream.
Minus the UZI - damn it, I know right? - and knee pads.

2012年4月23日 April 23rd is "Fuck the Earth Day"

"April 22nd. Earth Day. A day when people around the world go the extra mile to care for our delicate planet. A day to remember to recycle, to drive your Prius, to reduce your carbon footprint.

And a day where I like to go around telling everyone I see, 'Fuck the Earth!'

I'm Jack English and I paid for this ad, to tell you about a new and better holiday, April 23rd, 'Fuck the Earth Day!'"

While this video is quite old it's a wonderful classic for several reasons... I'd love to share all of those reasons with you, but frankly speaking I enjoy this video because every-time I see bullshit "Save the Earth" or "Earth Day" propaganda I want to puke. Then I remember April 23rd is Fuck the Earth Day, and I end up smiling. As someone else once put it, 

"[T]he whole green movement wasn[']t created to help the [E]arth, it was created so big corporations can charge us more money for things that are "green." [F]uck that shit, if [I] want to drive a hummer over a pack of polar bears while eating zebra steak, [I'm] going to fucking do it. [F]uck hippies and fuck being green"

When some people tout that saving the Earth is important I almost invariably start talking about mass suicides, or rather, complete extermination of the human race. Not because I believe we deserve to die, but if the objective is to save the Earth, then us being here in any capacity other than how the Hopi indians lived will not help the Earth. 

"But we need to be here to save the Earth!" some might say. Save the Earth? What happens if a super-massive solar flare or black-hole comes out of nowhere and fucks Earth to shit? I don't think our insurance would protect us from something that catastrophic, or interesting for that matter.

Also if one were to look at aerial photos of before and after urban sprawl, one might learn to agree with me. We're doing more damage than good. My sources? Well a source is CNN, which is questionable on politics, but then again what isn't politics? More info here, http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/world/road-to-rio/satellite-photos-urban-sprawl/index.html?hpt=wo_mid

Who doesn't love a little
bling-bling?!

Just "[r]emember, Global Warming is just a theory, like the evolution or the metric system." Because even if things do get worse or better depending on how you feel about mass chaos, there is still hope, at least from Jack English,

"Learn to swim. And eat fucking rocks- people! Swim... And eat rocks. Happy Fuck the Earth Day"

So let's go drive our cars, use our Ipods from China, let's liter, flush the toilet more than once a day, shower for more than 3 minutes, and buy new clothes that were made in other countries -- I haven't even gotten to mention how much oil is used to transport useless goods (i.e. shit) from one shit country to another.

Sure people can argue saying, "Oh I've donated this or that!" But realistically it's bullshit. Anytime you buy a DVD, a new car, fuck-- Especially a sports-car! A big truck, anything plastic, anything that gets less than 70MPG, not growing your own garden (community or otherwise) you're failing the Earth. Besides do you really expect me to believe you're going to give up your bling-bling (designer, coffee-latte enema, fashion, whatever-car) so the earth feels better for .000000000000004 seconds? I doubt it.

So let's celebrate, "Fuck the Earth Day", because if global warming is a serious problem, why haven't we caused a nuclear winter yet?
Peace out. Fuckers.

2012年4月22日 ABV #0002

I wrote over 900 words (I know, I word counted) in 10 minutes about how I felt about conversation and what it means when someone says, "Don't interrupt me." Frankly speaking I'll save that post for anyone day.

It's a celebration bitches! (url)

Today we celebrated Fozzjnen's birthday, even though today isn't the exact day. Frankly speaking who gives a shit? 

As Fozzjnen said in the sauna, "This (being in sauna) makes me feel like I'm at home." As four of us buzzed, albeit less than the birthday boy, celebrated the evening and his birthday while naked (in his sauna). I can't tell you what it's like. But it's not alien. What's alien is not being in the sauna, and not being at home. Everyone in the sauna told Fozzj that "You are home!" Because it's time that he doesn't have to worry about anything like that. 

It's time that he realizes this is the choice he made, especially since now that he has a son, career is set in stone (more or less), he doesn't have to leave or feel alien anymore. He just has to keep finding more stones and keep writing his future down: we're here for him. We can look for more stones, but of course we don't get to fashion them or write shit down for him, that's his job, although I'm sure he'll ask if he can type it instead of chiseling. Actually the same could be said of my own life, or maybe even yours. We get to decide where home is, and if we don't feel like this is home, why are we making this place home? should be a serious question that's asked, as an adult, at least once a week.

It was nice to share a good evening with him, even though at some point he got as violent as my mom when she was drunk listening to Tracy Chapman. But that wasn't the issue, that's another issue, a fearful issue. It reminded me of someone else I know. A person who said they want to hurt other people so they can be stopped. It was hard to watch a part of this with Fozzjnen, but frankly speaking I know it's more of a Fight Club thing. Because with Fight Club at least there is a moment where the destroyer says exactly what's wrong, and the - spoiler alert - other guy (who is an alternate ego to the destroyer) says (to himself) "Where'd you go psycho boy?" But this shit doesn't matter, because it's just a small part.

The issue, beyond smidgen of Fozz's above-mentioned stress, is that those who weren't there were missing out on a secret road of life. If you don't go into the hills, in a certain location, how the fuck can you see the full view of the city? Now of course, I told you how! Go to the hills! But what about going to yourself? Overlooking your own hills in life? Sauna can help, or meditation? Sauna-meditation?!

Takes a special kind of man
to drink naked next to his friend

In our case? Well first and foremost, the beer helped, but really what helped was the nakedness. With the nakedness there were no more illusions. We didn't subscribe to bullshit anymore, titles, money, whatever. We were all equal for a moment or so, as the sauna got hotter and steam burned the "scalp" of the "Silver Fox" - shit you not Fozzjnen called him that - next to me. As SF griped, I ended up smiling since the steam in the sauna is like another way to show fun. You don't have to lie to yourself anymore when you're in the sauna or anyone else for that matter.

I shit you not, being in a sauna and letting go of the bullshit in life is so important, so much so that at least 70 percent of the time this importance reminds me of the value of hope. I can tell you I have shared the sauna with a lot of different people, even with a distant cousin: the Japanese onsen, but those who can't get over the nakedness have something seriously wrong in my opinion. Why? Because if you're only worried about being naked and it's not a religious thing, then really it's just another bullshit limitation.

That's what I discovered today, not another bullshit limitation, but a way to go beyond the bullshit limitations. And what better way than to watch that limitation whither, when Fozzjnen celebrates his birthday by getting a birthday hug from his son. Of course beering it up later and sharing life helped too. Honesty tends to do that. But this honesty isn't the shameful honesty of being honesty with strangers and not those close to us, it's being honest with ourselves, without the illusions. 

It was nice and wonderfully raw. 

Until I was kicked in the head by Fozzjnen when I bent down to stretch my knee.
Beer does that to people sometimes.

2012年4月20日 Going/Career

Example of sacrifices for
life, etc

Over the years when I've given instruction, a presentation, or a lecture I have been told that I should consider a job in a field where I will be able to do that. In a sense, becoming a HS teacher or even professor at a university is probably the best route. With that said, the next question comes to mind, "In what?" Frankly speaking, education as a whole is interesting to me, be it social studies, English (language or literature), other foreign languages, and so forth. Even discussing how to effectively teach better is something I enjoy.

With that said, it just means more school and education. How one accomplishes that and what sacrifices have to be made is another issue. Sacrifices have to be made, it cannot always be "take take take", at least in my life it can't be. I wasn't lucky enough to be born into a Saudi Prince's family, and in actuality I would consider that to be unlucky, because I'd probably be a Muslim.

Over then next few months I will probably discuss this further. But for now, I pretty much know where I'm going to be. And that's around people who let me help them with wanting to learn, ask questions, and them helping me with learning along the way.

2012年4月19日 Yuck

I wake up some mornings without hope. Mainly because I feel obsolete or worse, expendable. When I feel that way I don't want to do shit, and I end up doing nothing. This feeling can last for several hours to several days. Sometimes the best thing for me to do is to get outside into the harsh, painful, and cold wet weather, instead of staying inside my warm and also very miserable cave strategically placed away from the world.

Rambo: To survive a war, you've got to become war.

Co-Bao: That why they pick you? Because you like to fight?

Rambo: I'm expendable.
Co-Bao: Expendable? What mean expendable?

Rambo: It's like, someone invites you to a party and you don't show up. Doesn't really matter.

Today I was in the cave of no hope and endless feelings of being expendable. I realized I had to get out, mainly because I had work. And also because a friend and her boyfriend wanted to meet up with me. We talked about life and work. Afterwards I took them to the store so they could make chicken for dinner or something. It was good to see them.

Afterwards my patriarch of education at the university reminded me of a quote I think I brought up with him, but somehow I forgot it, "'Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life.' Mark Twain said that I think you were the one who told me that." I had a smirk on my face as he said that to me.

Fozzjnen told me to do something I'm "good at that also pays the bills." What bills? What are these bills? I mean outside of this or that, why does happiness need to be a huge income? Vacation? Why is happiness defined by clothes, technology, or land? Why do some of us feel unhappy when there is self-improvement?

Some of my best moments with friends or family has been some kind of conversation about life and just being able to exist with them sharing our worlds.

Why are people telling me more money means more options? 

What kind of options? 

Why do people work shit jobs, high-stress environments either at home or at work, only to have a few days out of 365 days to be or feel happy or hope for that matter? Why do those same people chose to have zero hope or happiness almost everyday, waiting for it to come when they can retire early? Wouldn't all that stress early on reduce their life expectancy? What's the point then working unhappily in a high stress environment or life for 15 to 20 years, only to die 10 years later from a heart attack (sources: 1, 2, 3, 4)?

Why aren't people realistically asking these questions when they have those things, and then reflecting on their whole life? 

Why do people still have these great things, sometimes abandoning relationships with their children? 

Why have those things only to have children that loathe them? 

Why even bother having children? 

Why does this happen? 

Why shouldn't we ask these questions?

I reminded myself that sometimes people define something by what exists. 

What about defining things through the absence of existence? Dark matter anyone?

I just can't quit, can I? 

I can't stop it. Actually I could, there are several bridges around here.

But I feel like I'd end up just talking about the choices of the bridge and how the bridge is actually a metaphor for something else. Probably mental masturbation.

Thoughts?

2012年4月18日 ABV #0001

Sometimes, during drinking my eyes feel heavy. Like wearing a lead vest during an X-ray, we wonder if it's the weight or if it's the comfort of the weight that makes us sleepy. Actually I don't give a fuck what it makes you feel, but it makes me feel sleepy, or rather comfortable enough to get sleepy, except I'm worried about being molested by the attendant taking the x-rays. It feels good to feel sleepy. It feels good to feel good while feeling sleepy. You have no idea what it feels like to be able to be so happy and yet so tired. No one has any idea, except Wainwright that guy buzzes out pretty fast.

***

What happens when the weight is from something else? What happens when the weight feels good? The right amount of pressure? Pressurized cabin? How the fuck did someone figure out how much physical pressure my body likes? Didn't they know I prefer blanket first? That and more beer on this flight, thank you.

Did I have 9 or 10 en route to Japan, I can't even remember. I think it was nine. Good start. I could hear part of my dad talking to me in the back of my head.

Breathing in, my eyes roll back. I think it flashed white briefly. I don't know. Everything seems labored. It's even better when it's just the right amount of labor. When it feels like a large eagle has decided to rest on my nape, while stretching his wings. It has to be a he. Why? Because I said so. However, if the eagle is spread eagle on my shoulders, then it's a she. Because a dude spreading eagle on my shoulders requires some money first.

Gary sings in the background as I look towards the vacant kitchen. I have not been this hungry is long time, I have no idea why.

My phone vibrates and a message shows up:

"Good for you. After an incident Saturday night, I'm actually contemplating getting one. I feel like a hypocrite."

Do you want mine? You can borrow it. 

For as long as you need.

Just don't fucking sell, that's my job.

Because I need beer, or rather I need to slow down sometimes.
Sometimes I'm moving too fast.

2012年4月18日 Fozzj logic

Fozzjnen and his "Fozzj logic", while having it's own kind of magic sort of speak, sometimes sends me into a slight depression, albeit it's probably my own fault anyhow. UNLESS! Unless he happens to be sending me depressing songs and lyrics when I'm dealing with difficult life or relationship issues.

When my GF in Japan jilted me and he was getting annoyed about me agonizing over it, he sent me the following lyrics.

What Will You Say by Redemption.

Here it is via Youtube:

Lyrics!

What will you say about me?

Will you say I was a good man?

That you felt my love and that you loved me too

What will you say about me?

Will you say that it was perfect

Or it wasn't worth the pain I put you through? 

Seems so strange

We just let this slip away 

One day in the arms of another

When you're close enough to share

The dreams you'd wished would be

What will you say about me? 

What will you tell him about me?

Will you say that we were soulmates

And you knew our lives were meant to be as one?

What will you think about

When you've a family all your own?

Will you wonder where your other half has gone? 

Happiness

Slips like sand between our fingers

Never to return 

One day in the arms of another

When you're close enough to share

The dreams you'd wished would be

What will you say about me?

One day (one day)

Far apart from each other

Will you think about the chance for love you threw away?

What will you say? 

We had more than most have dreamed

And I cannot conceive

The reasons that you couldn't let it be

And as the years go by

And we live out our lives

I'll always wonder why

You wouldn't spend yours here with me 

One day in the arms of another

When you're close enough to share

The dreams you'd wished would be

What will you say about me? 

One day (one day)

Far apart from each other

Will you think about the chance for love you threw away?

Will you think about mistakes you made along the way?

Will you think about the place that we might be today?

What will you say?

But Fozzjnen's sick and twisted humor doesn't end there, and thank God it doesn't. 

Last night he sent me the song Statherian, by The Ocean. Its lyrics are much more depressing given the situation I'm in and because it's actually dialog pulled from a movie rather than someone written by a band member. Nonetheless it's entertaining, because it affirms how I look at life most of the time. 

I love conversation. I could talk about ponies, porno, and York Peppermint patties. Some people can't. Some people can, mainly because they also love conversation as much as I do, and laughing. 

The subjects will change, some new people will come in and some will go out. But those who like the "hunt" of the conversation, rather than the "kill," will stay. It's no different than anything else in life. When we like what we do, we don't stop at success or ownership. We just keep going and going, at least those of us who are awake enough to know it are the ones who will continue endlessly. 

It just feels even more alien and more depressing when we're told to stop doing the things we love "hunting". The below lyrics don't say that the kill is sweeter than the hunt. 'Cause if the kill was more important than the hunt, then most of us would probably work at a gas station, because a "job is a job" a "man is a man" a "family is a family". And a clown is a fucking scary monster who hits your mom, rapes your dog, and also happens to rape pedophiles with balloons.

[Instrumental with a quote from the movie The Life of David Gale playing] 

What it means to be fully human is to strive to live by ideas and ideals 

And not to measure your life by what you've attained in terms of your desires but[...] 

Those small moments of integrity, compassion, rationality... because in the end, the only way that we can measure the significance of our own lives 

Is by valuing the lives of others.
Fantasies have to be unrealistic. Because the moment, the second that you get what you seek, you don't, you can't want it anymore.
In order to exist, desire must have its objects perpetually absent.
It's not the 'it' that you want, its the fantasy of 'it'. 

We are only truly happy when daydreaming about future happiness.
This is why we say: the hunt is sweeter than the kill, or: be careful what you wish for - not because you'll get it: because you're doomed not to want it once you do.
Living by your wants will never make you happy.

This shit never ends, he won't stop with sending me music like the above, and I hope he doesn't. He does know that I strike back back in the same fashion, which is nice. I use music that hits him at home and hard. Like the M270 Multiple Launch Rocket System (M270 MLRS) against small children, Phil Collins' solo work is designed to destroy the hopes and dreams of all men in love with anyone other than their own children or parents.

Here is Against All Odds, by Phil Collins

How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace

When I stand here taking every breath with you, ooh

You're the only one who really knew me at all 

How can you just walk away from me,

when all I can do is watch you leave

Cos we've shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears

You're the only one who really knew me at all 

So take a look at me now, cos there's just an empty space

And there's nothing left here to remind me,

just the memory of your face

Just take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space

And you coming back to me is against the odds and that's what I've got to face. 

I wish I could just make you turn around,

turn around and see me cry

There's so much I need to say to you,

Take a look at me now!

so many reasons why

You're the only one who really knew me at all 

So take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space

And there's nothing left here to remind me, just the memory of your face

Just take a look at me now, cos there's just an empty space

But to wait for you, is all I can do and that's what I've got to face

Just take a look at me now, cos I'll still be standing here

And you coming back to me is against all odds

It's a chance I've got to take. 

Just take a look at me now.

Given the circumstances of this post, I almost feel like it is incomplete without Queen, especially with Mercury and his mustache. Goddamnit, that mustache alone makes its own appearance in the video below. It's kind of hot. The lyrics are hot, not the mustache.

2012年4月17日 T4T: Waking up is hard

Two 4 Tuesday

Obviously I couldn't date her if that's how
she felt about conversation.
What if I want her to make me a sandwich or get beer?

Is it that waking up is hard, or does sleep really feel that good? If it's the latter case, why are we afraid of death? Since, no one really knows what it's like to be dead for more than a day and a half, we can only imagine that death and its unconsciousness is like sleeping. 

BUT! When it comes to being a cyborg, we do have people we can ask. Most of those people write books about the universe, black-holes (not hookers), and computers. More info here via Wikipedia. 

Unfortunately for the organ donor industry (in China or wherever)-- Yeah it's probably not a "donor," in the sense of volunteers, in China though. Anyway, I can't imagine a lot of people killing themselves so they can sleep forever. At least in the sense that we don't get to interview them about they did it.

It's kind of funny, since I actually like sleeping. Sleeping isn't really a painful process, but I suppose unlimited amounts of sleep will be my reward in life someday. The reward is going to be that when I die, I don't have to be bothered with having to get up for work or anything. It's kind of nice. 

If I'm buried in the ground or cement - I'm against zombies - I hope my friends and/or family include a butter-knife, McDonalds' toys, a Fleshlight and a blanket. This way we can confuse the fuck outta' archaeologists 1000 years from now. We'll probably need a hug too. And a lot of aspirin from stiff joints.

2012年4月17日 "I hurt people, I'm a dick."

Oh man, I love this video

Morals?

2012年4月15日 Omission

Today's article is going to be omitted. Because I'm not ready to talk about it, and I haven't even resolved somethings with myself.

I asked a family member if they were happy I still talk to them, even though they were a full-blown alcoholic. It's been over 5 years, and even though the past is in the past, my brother refuses to talk to this family member. I still talk to this family member, even though we still have problems sometimes, life is never without problems.

I think that's the reason I stuck around for that person, because I believe they could change and they did, but even with myself I was only able to change because I made my reasons and decided on my own. No one made me do anything, no one gave me a reason. I made and found my own reasons, and I temper and re-sharpen them as they wear with use. If I didn't give anyone else an equal chance, I'd be a hypocrite, which is something I've got to prevent myself from being.

2012年4月14日 Cruelty

"It's a trap. I'm a trap"

Fuck the grammar, the typos, the run-on and off sentences. Fuck it, fuck me, fuck it. Let's just get down to the brass tacks of the issue.

I can be an extremely cruel person, in fact, I'm quite good at it.

Don't confuse that with pride. 

I'm not proud by any means, even if I'm good at it.

I hate it, and it makes me want to die.

I was asked by a family member something semi-personal, I asked them "Why?" 

They said, "Because I just want to know." 

I responded by openly reflecting on their past behavior, "Well, I want to know why you abandoned my brother and I for a complete stranger and his kids." 

"You know what-- just get out. I'm done."

This is somewhat unintentional and on auto-mode. But if I said it was completely unintentional I would be lying, what I mean to say is that it's me not making a huge effort other than breathing. I can help it. I could help that. I'm not trying hard or making a strong effort with that kind of cruelty and that's example I wanted to point out of that specific situation.

***

As I said, I didn't even have to try. I wasn't trying (hard) to be cruel with that response. I just found a file in my brain, scanned for whatever was the most efficient at defusing the situation from myself and bringing it up into the hypothetical realm. I wasn't angry when I asked what I asked or defensive. After the data was found, I pulled out mental mirror. I pulled it out even though it would not make the situation better. When this mirror of open-reflection-on-emotions-or-memories-that-suck is pulled out, things do not generally go well for anyone. Most people know what pains them, I find it, and remind them. 

And most of those people are not equipped to openly assess their problems, unless they are in a private room with a therapist.

So what happens when I'm trying or when don't smile?

--Fuck it doesn't even matter if I'm smiling or not!! If I'm trying, it's just fucking worse!

The following, until the end, is an open assessment of that.

I end up being the one who breaks everything. Someone may break something in their life, with or without me, and when this happens sometimes I come out and make things extremely difficult. I do this by showing them all the skeletons in their closet. Many of which they are unable to come to terms with or even knew of in the first place. Shoving it all in their emotional face, all the pain that was supposed to be gone. I bring it all back. The details, the details are the pain. And I investigate it all.

In most cases, it's not because I'm being vengeful. I bring it back as reference, as if it's just an example to a math problem. So casually, so calmly, very cruel. But what happens when it's not calm or casual?

My skill is fucking disgusting, painful, and feels VERY bad when used in a non-casual way.

But like the men and women I love: love is like roses, so it goes without saying that love doesn't come without thorns. Love has a price-tag, but love is never negotiable. If I want love, I take a risk (and that's the price tag), but I can't negotiate love because I'm afraid of the risk. Because then it negates love. That's when I got cruel. I made a, the terrible mistake negotiating hope, love, and faith. And I got cruel when I didn't get what I wanted.

I wasn't violent: I was cruelty incarnate.

An injured sparrow landed  on my hand, I tried help it as it talked to me. When it got scared, and I started to scare it, the sparrow  bit me unconsciously. I started to crush it. It didn't know any better, or if it did, I tried to crush it anyhow. I have done this to a person! I have expressed cruelty to a person. I hurt them, even though they were hurting another and wanted to stop, but couldn't or wasn't ready. Even when they knew something was wrong, and needed help with their problem, I hurt them. I hurt them effectively, and efficiently. Instead of effectively helping them efficiently. I turned my back on the lighthouse I was in charge of, letting them crash on their own rocks, and guiding them into pain. It was a terrible thing. I'm a terrible thing! And it got me thinking again about something I thought I could file away even from myself...

At that moment I was a disgustingly cruel person. And I reflected all the cruelty I saw and felt onto a person only asking for help (albeit probably not in the best way), from all the angles that I could. I applied cruelty from all hypothetical positions, from the daughter to the mother. Again, I played all angles, all stops were gone, and went as far as I could. The problem is that there isn't a limit to cruelty. And it knew it.

What was that file I put away?
If all I do is cause pain, and abuse my power, why am I even here?
If everything I touch bleeds because of my own negligence, why should I even participate in life?

It was a type of punishment on that person. The last time, someone came to me with hesitation, we broke up 24 hours later. I had no idea she was going to leave me so suddenly. Without any warning, no big fight, nothing. Our last meeting as a couple, while short was so nice. She got me flowers, a smile, a hug, everything, but enthusiasm. 

"Will you spend the night?" 

"... No, I'm just tired from work..." 

"I love you, don't work so hard!" I said. 

24 hours later, she had broken up with me. When hesitation came back again into my life, from someone else, I struck hard and fast with cruelty. I wasn't just going to get hit like that again.

Someone makes a mistake, hesitates, causes pain intentionally or accidentally, and instead of coming out with a helping hand at some point I pull the mirror. I use it on everyone, all those who are weak, innocent, guilty, and strong. And I use it until submission. Until the pain causes them to shutdown, and when that happens I use it even more, because I see the submission as an escape. I don't quit until their own reflection bleeds them. Although sometimes I did, I would even stand in front the mirror and project my skeletons onto someone else. Sometimes there isn't a submission. Sometimes someone looks beyond the mirror, and sees only that I'm holding a mirror. Some people just look at see me, holding information. And they look beyond me, and they look at the future. Those people are untouchable against that kind of cruelty. Few can do it. I have brought great shame on myself for finding those people when I used a mirror that way. I have brought greater shame on me from those who couldn't.

***

The coffee reminded me that I have a wonderful skill, and I'm using it in the wrong way.

And I'm using it in the wrong way because I'm hating myself, because of fear.

I'm the man who shows you how to hurt yourself when you say you want to hurt yourself. 

I'm the man who wants to drink with you when you want to get drunk.

I'm the man who wants to smile with you when you want to feel better. 

I'm the man who hurts you when you hurt others, or you hurt yourself.

I'm the man who wants to love you, when you hate yourself.
I'm the man who wants to hate you, when you love yourself.

I'm the man who wants to love you, when you love yourself.

I'm the man who wants to hate you, when you hate yourself.

I'm the man who loves you, when you come for love.

I'm the man who shows you hate, when you come for love.

I'm the man who shows you love, when you come for hate.

I'm the man who shows you a shadow, when you come for the man.

I'm the shadow of a man, when I turn off the lights.

I'm the man who loves children, yet jokes about kicking them down stairs.
I'm the man in pain, but smiles anyway.
I'm the man who is angry, yet happy anyway.

I'm the man who holds the door open for you. And I'm the guy kicks you when you're down. 

I shake your hand, I show honest kindness. 

And I also show my cruelty honestly, and its morally wrong, repugnant, and realistically worse than ingesting pig-vomit with intensity. 

When fear takes over, evil flourishes

My dishonesty is when I express that the world is a good place, and we need hope and faith, and yet my moral nihilism tells me nothing matters. My dishonesty is that is that hold a high standard, and yet I wake up sometimes wondering if it matters at all. My dishonesty is my doubt, my fear, and from that fear comes my cruelty.

Every time a new question, a new answer, and a new situation I often find myself re-creating and re-learning to cope with the structures & chaos of and in the world. It's a nightmare sometimes to be my friend. It's a blessing sometimes to be my friend. I'm the worst or the best, in just a few moments, in just a few questions, in just a few answers. Everything is fragile and yet solid. It's all water, ice one moment, mist in another. Bringing clouds, quenching thirst, bringing waves to swim in, and rain to flee from.

It's a nightmare to know that when all a person really needs from me is a hug, a smile, or a glass of water, but all I do sometimes is wait with that mirror. Or those skeletons, and I'm waiting to show you them. Whether it's reminding someone of a song that depresses the fuck out of them, or bringing up something they said eons ago, I wait. I wait in my fear. And sometimes I wait in my love.

It's a terrible thing that I wield both peace and war in both hands, sometimes simultaneously.

It's cruel I can do it with a smile or tears in my eyes.

It's cruel I still exist when I do these cruel things.
It makes me wonder if should die from a Jihad-ist beheading involving sporks and serrated butter knives.

I am not the tax collector of your sins, but sometimes I wear that suit.

When I get home and look into my own mirrors, I remind myself that I also have my own taxes to collect. I hate myself for lying to myself. When the persons in my life I should have been angry at, I let go in peace. Sure, I should have let them go in peace, but I shouldn't have lied to myself about the situation thinking that I shouldn't have been angry. I should have been honest with myself, instead of going for the mirror. 

I shouldn't have been cruel to another or myself, when someone was there to help me. To help me off the ground. Instead I kicked myself. Then one day, I stopped kicking and I got up. Later I offered the same, I offered to help someone up, and when they kicked their body instead of getting up, I kicked them also. God will make me pay for this, and I hope one day, I can learn from this or die trying.

w/o love for anything
or anyone.

So sometimes I wonder if I should pay the ultimate price just to catch up on the interest of my own transgressions. If I paid, would I really be paying the price or is it that cruelty would really win?

What about love? 

Do I even remember love or is it all just fear now? 

Certainly there is hope. Certainly. 

Because I can see it, even though it's just beyond my reach. 

I have to pick one or the other, or I will never have peace and love. 

I will never have complete war and anger. 

I will have only an opportunity for nothing and everything at the same time, but never actually having nothing or everything. It'll just be me at the intersection with the choice.

When will I wake up, instead of punishing others for not waking up?

I can't afford to wait. I can't afford to wait, if I want hope and faith.
I can't afford to wait if I want a life of hope and faith.
I can't afford to be cruel anymore, because the price-tag is too much.

I can't afford to solve my fear alone.

Every available resource at my disposal must be available for them, including my life, or there never will be a recovery from this. Of course, I did offer every available resource before, and when I asked for honesty, it was denied. I applied honesty again, albeit aggressively in a cruel manner. When my (cruel and direct) honesty was not met with honesty other than with anger and hatred, I wondered if this person really wanted help.

Even now I wonder, why weren't my questions answered? Why can't this person express trust?
A mistake is a mistake if the perception of truth was wrong. I.e. "Two times two is five!" The truth is wrong, because the person did not know the truth. But when the person knows the truth saying, "Two times two is five!" Yet the person saying that knows it is not five, certainly we can't say that's a mistake. It's a lie.

I may have been cruel, but a lie is also cruel. Cruelty itself is just cruelty, it can be honest or it can be through deception. Continuing lying and knowing it, is cruel. Dishonesty is cruel as well. Truth can be cruel to those who do not believe in it. :) As someone once said to me, "What's actually changed other than you're the bad guy? As far as I'm concerned you didn't lie about anything and you were honest from the beginning (regardless of being cruel)."

Questions never end. Nor should they.
Not asking or answering questions, raises more and more questions