excerpts from the fifty stories I am writing ( I just skipped through my microsoft word):
"all we've got is each other... if we fail god fails, if we fail the walls crumbles, reason falters, and the whole universe goes awry…"
" In those bare minimum moments we are allowed to feel, but I didn’t want to feel. I wanted to walk away; I wanted to pretend that nothing had happened"
"I believe there is someone out there.
Someone hectic, scattered, and dedicated
Just like me."
"collapsed and considering quitting again… "
"I me me mine its all about me isn’t it? Shouldn’t it be? "
"The one that got away from me is the one that I let go away…"
"Unfortunately, what we can comprehend often itself is marred and no matter how in tune we are with what passes we still may only understand a fraction of these events. I believe it must remain that way for even the most enlightened individual. Who has time to pay all that attention?"
"Nothing is ever as bad as it seems; even death itself can be reduced down to a witty quip “ashes to ashes, dust to dust”. All this life and a few seconds after our heart or our mind goes out we are nothing once more. Probably doesn’t even take a minute and what was once life is now a corpse waiting to begin decomposition… We all know these things, you know this, I know this. We all accept these things.
Maybe it’s the fear of acceptance that drives us mad, but it certainly isn’t the fact that we are going to die…"
"Its only natural to feel a number of emotions. Only natural to laugh, only natural to cry, only natural to build, to create, to construct, to desire, to yearn. Yes to yearn. All good things involve a certain amount of yearning."
"Real tears born of realization"

"Youth
My youth took my happiness away, or were my father? Or were they one in the same? How can anyone be happy, as a child, when their father is more than a phone call away? When their mother is overworked and unable to communicate anything other than frustration with uncontrolled signs and tears at dinner everyday? Every fucking day.
When they take your daddy away, and believe you me it is neither your mother nor your father that takes your daddy away, it is life that takes away your daddy. Sometimes you think its god, because what more is life then god, then you realize that it is life, that god does not take daddys away (not any god that you could believe in), then you realize that god doesn’t control life, he’s caught up in the meanings, defined by the definitions unable to change a damn thing (and this is the type of god you should believe in?). What was I saying? Oh yeah…
When they take your daddy away you are forced to carry on as convention would have it: missing him dearly but all the while chalking it up to a distraction. A distraction that can only take away from your school or your happiness. Your school? In first grade who the fuck cares more about a father than an A in mathematics? Your happiness. I think we’ve discussed this already: there is no happiness when we are not complete. There is not completeness when you wake up every morning to flustered mother and the memory of a father…"

"

Love
I wasn’t happy still, till I met a girl. A sweet little thing who was set on convincing me that love was the way out. In some weird sense, or maybe a real direct one so sublime that it appears an illusion, I wasn’t happy until I was able to see a family unit as something attainable or persistent, something that will not fail through time or change in environment.
Fortunately, though life had robbed me of my example it could not deprive me of the hope instilled by my first relationship… possibility its all about possibility. You believe in it or you do not, it really is that simple. Me, I believe in the possibility of love, therefore…"

"When someone gives up their faith in you, you’re fucked. I don’t care what you do, honest or integral, they will see some fictitious desire to hurt them…"

"Now this cat was poor, I mean he didn’t have any money. I never seen him with even a dime in his hand. Never drank, never smoked, never did nothing but hang out. But he always had food. I mean this mother fucker never had a thing to do, but his fridge was always full and he was always sharing his food… mother fucker was a twig…"

- it feels weird to flip through these old writings, some are journals, some are stories, but they are all attempts to explain the universe.

oncearoundthesun.blogspot.com - check it out...

I think I am going to take a month off.
A month off from everything, mostly my friends. I am just too social. too much to do not enough time. So I think I am going to take a month off and just work on getting the 'real' side of my life together...
I may blog I may not, it doesn't really matter since only nick reads this shit anyway...
I wrote a bunch in my paper journal today - first time I put anything in there, outside of dream sketches, in a long time...
If I don't make it in school by 2005 I am done, no matter what.

I've been up for all of six hours today and I think I am about to go back to bed. That is awesome. I've never had a six hour day before...

first off, I hate money. I fucking hate it, its retarded, superficial, and nothing more than an extension of our free time. I hate it. I hate how some people magically have it, I hate how some people magically don't (by magically I mean 'are born with'). you got that greene? money is a hustle and you will never, ever, satisfy your desires if they revolve around, or relate to, money.
the root of all evil mother fuckers. the root of all evil... you hear me? of course you don't...


second. I have no checks and balances. I don't have some woman whining in my ear every day about what I should or shouldn't do. I have no mother telling me what to do (or no father either). I don't even have a sense of responsibility to some 'higher order' that could guide my conduct... in short, I have no checks and balances, only my own ravenous desires... ravenous, or were it apathetic? a little bit of the two... a little bit of the two.

god how I want to be great. god how I love to sleep in. juxtaposed in an everyday effort to go everywhere without moving a muscle. "It occurs to me america that I am talking to my self"...

just ordered 10 new books (two are in spanish and for school), three were kundera books. I think it'll be my goal this year to read all of his books, and to finish out kerouac also... I bought a book by henry miller "big sur..." and 'eats shoots and leaves' because I listened to some woman talk about it on all things considered... I bought the john stewart book... and I can't remember what else...
I love books.

"Why am I such a misfit? I am not just a nitwit.You can't fire me I quit, since I don't fit in."

merry christmas fuckers... This has been a good week already and it is only going to get better...
When I was a child, I loved christmas. Then I went to college and failed every fall. I was so drug down by christmas I just slept through most of them... now life is good again and I love christmas...
Thursday we'll be at roman's, friday is family, saturday is more family, sunday is the end of fantasy football, and all next week is poker poker poker...
again, life is good.

"I see in Fight Club, the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential. And, I see squandering. God damn it! An entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables: slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing car and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man--no purpose or place. We have no great war. No great depression. Our great war's a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars . . . but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact and we're very, very pissed off."

Our war is truely a spiritual one. That is of course if you are one of us. For fight club to apply you must first be a male, second you must be young (under thirty, over twenty), and you've probably got to be single, or at least able to be dedicated above all other connections. You also have to be angry, actually beyond anger you must be fed-up.
When I watch that movie I think I must somehow take my squandered potential, and the anger that comes out of it my ambitions, and focus on some project or another. Mayhem helps, destruction of public goods helps, destruction of self helps...
It doesn't have to be public destruction, that was just their choice. What it does have to be is personal. Thats what makes it spiritual: that's what makes it worth fighting...

It's one AM, I just poored my self a three shot bloody mary, I got my guitar in my hand and I am ready to relax. Bloody mary at one in the morning? fuck yeah, bloody mary at one in the morning... I think later I'll watch a little bit of rudolph (I own the dvd) by my self, in a non-depressing manner, and just let this last week of work fade away...

"memories of candles and incense and all of these things..." stp

nice day, subbed, came home and slept for a while, then my mother and brother came over for dinner. Did my laundry, caught up on the mail, I just drank some nyquil and now its off to bed. I hope to god I don't get sick...
been playing a lot of guitar lately, I think I may just be getting good..

day two of death week done... I am sooo exhausted, its been weeks of this... and now my final stretch run... I've picked up shifts next monday tuesday wed. also...
been having crazy thoughts on the way home: I am way to fat, pushing 225 and out of the real of that ungodly 220 I always saw as my pinnacle. I want to run or exercise in some way but I don't have time. Instead I dine on at least a pound of beef each night at weber's... its disgusting, understandable, but disgusting...
I have this braclet on my arm, its been here since mexico the first time. I have a cross around my neck... these are the only two pieces of jewlery (ignorring my earings all those years) that I've ever really wore. one is mexico one is christ. It really is that simple.
I like my self when I am simple; its all too often that I am trying oh so hard to be oh so complicated.
I don't know when I decided that depth was defined by levels of character, as opposed to breadth of character, but it has become a confining characteristic (especially when it comes to my own personal happiness)...
human beings are fucked up things. Give them love, give them anything consistent, and they will end up suspicious or dependent.
I don't make the rules I just write the rythmes...
rhymes, I really don't rhyme - there's a little rhythm, a little reason and not much else...
I might as well be twenty seven
I might as well be knee deep in the shit.
my war is a spiritual war
"our war is a spiritual war"
jesus and mexico, its all that I've got...

Juror's said that Petterson's lack of emotion doomed him. what? his lack of emotion? since when does your emotional state effect the outcome of your trial and whether or not you get the death penalty?

I hate the death penalty; I don't see what it does to deter crime and I see it as a hypocritical slap in the face to the justice system as a whole.

I didn't really want to go here, but... why you don't sleep with stupid white trash sluts is that when you get them pregnant there is no escape. No escape button, only her mother telling her not to listen to his pleas for an abortion, his reasoning that you can't afford a child... and your life is over.
you used to have a life,
now you have a child.

one day down in my hell week of work... everyday this week, except wed. when I only sub, I work both jobs. So basically everyday I wake up at 5:30, run all day, and drive home tired as fuck at 11 or 12. I am going to die on sibley...
I am stressed out, really tired all the time. I love it; my tired mind being my friend... today at work I filled in a worksheet with a bunch of rambling thoughts the most prominent of which: I am 27 (really I am only 26) its time to write a record or fade away (actually I wrote its time to die or write a record). Jesus made it over the hump at 27 why can't I?
"sing dance, la la la hey la la la hey la la la la... dark clouds may hang over me some times, but I'll work it out" - sorry I just had to play some guitar before I finish this little ditty...
anyway, I am working a lot. It's not so bad, I feel productive and I'm having some nice realizations.
The next year is very important.

When I was a kid I got picked on. I got beat up, I got called names, I even got dragged through a ditch... then one day when in 6th or 7th or 8th grade I bought a pantera album got a weight bench and destroyed my insecurities.... Pantera was everything to me back then. They were the second concert I ever went to, Feb. 1994 ( ten years ago, almost eleven)... anyway, they embodied who I wanted to be back then and it was their music that got me through the most angry/sad days of my life.
Now Dimebag is dead, and really their last couple albums sucked anyway, but it hurts a little to see him go...
not that its like Kurdt Cobain died or something, just that musicians change our lives and he was one of the more influential guitarist of my life... "stronger than all"



on a side note, I just sent out around 60 detentions to kids with excessive tardies. I have become the man... "...all you hear and see on tv is a product..."
(those who don't know - I have taken a long term sub position in the detention room)

if you like man love, you will love ALEXANDAR... boy is that flick gay gay gay...