I resolve

New years eve is tomorrow. This will be my last post of the year. Only fitting that it should be consisting of my resolutions to make this next year successful.

-to promote change.
-to resist the mechanisms of the machine. (by maybe not shoping at walmart anymore)
-to love unconditionally.
-to do better in school.
-to become a better person.
-to be less awkward.
-to kick the presidential candidates from the two major parties in the knees (figuratively)

Here's to a classy 2008. Just like 2007, but worse. At least, in terms of the regression of humanity into a self destructive, bickering race of beings.

Reckoner

I'd forgotten how much I enjoy driving. I went out for a short time to find food after my nightly engaugements. I was sitting at a red light, and next to me pull up a couple, no older than me. It was kind of interesting to see. I mean, I'm not one to say I've never kissed someone at a red light... just not in a while. It made me think and look around. At the abbanddoned strip mall, at all the cars flying by. And think about how complex we are, as a civilazation and culture, yet, we still find the most satisfaction in the smallest of things. In late night romance at stoplights.
[Because we separate like
ripples on a blank shore
(in rainbows)]

It dug up memories. Of the trips to the Exxon from alpha to omega. Of basements and weeds and the best of it and the worst of it. A reminder of where I've been. Of where I want to go. Of where I never want to be again.

RIP democracy

"It is difficult to see any glimmer of hope, peace, reconciliation in this country." -Spokesman of the vatican regaurding the murder of Bhutto, a democracy advocate in Pakistan. Although, it may as well be about America, or the west.

Ask the next person that talks to you who Bhutto is, or to find pakistan on a map. It's a horrible day. I only pray that sanity will win out in this battle with humanity.

These things you can't unlearn

Can't unlearn not being able to get to sleep. Or unlearn to nudge the dog as he whimpers in his sleep. I suppose everything has their nightmares, even dogs. Unfortunate.

And it's only at night, too, that I am troubled. By all the rotten thoughts around my head. About past mistakes. About mistakes I haven't even made. About things I can't do anything about. About everything I don't know or I am unsure about. (which seems to be just about everything)

I think sleep is my ally. Sleep thinks I am it's enemy.

Fire Eye'd Boy

It's Christmas, officially. Jesus was born today. A person, who I think, helped bring love into the world. If not just for this day. So be a nice guy or girl, eh?

Here's to peace.

Cymbal Rush

[So, in case you've not picked it up, my titles are, for the most part, song titles. I've decided to include a quote from the song I picked, as a sort of pun in the paragraph, to sort of relate the song to what I'm writing about]

So, apparently the end of the year is a time to look back on what's happened in the past year. [...it's all boiling over...] I think I'll do it now. I probably wont feel like it any other time before new years. Maybe.

I suppose I should start personally. Well. What can I say? January consisted of being lazy around the house and trying to well up old memories. My birthday passed without significance. For the most part, the spring flew. I don't remember much of it, and I don't think I want to, either. I started this blog thing sometime in the spring. Back when I had a ton of time on my hands because I was lazy and my study/sleeping habits were worse than they are even now. I don't think I had nearly the social life I do now. Yet, I look back on things, and I don't remember being really too unhappy. Perhaps I've grown wiser for it.
The summer came next. The job hunt was excruciating, fustrating, and made me feel useless. The whole summer, actually, welled up a lot of anti-corporate angst. I remember wanting to punch the district manager in the face whenever I saw him. He wasn't a bad guy, but I think the whole experience, you know, the cutting of hours to keep the bottom line, without considering the repercussions for the employees, pushed me to develop a hatred of caring so much about the bottom line. Made me commit to always care about my employees, if I am ever a boss... I think the fall is too complex and recent to compile. I don't understand everything about it yet, but maybe I'll get back to it before the new year.

In the world: How do you think 2007 was? No different than 2006. More war. More death. More shootings. More fustration. A worse economy. You know, the continual belt conveying us off the edge of the cliff no one can see. I'd like to spend more time on this, but really, why waste my breath? If you want to discover what 2007 was about, take a while before bed, and force yourself to remember everything that you remember occurring. I garentee most of it will be bad, at least if you think on the world level.

I should stop writing like I'm damn depressed.

Paranoid Andriod

At a loss. Under an avalanche. Unable to say anything to anyone, without saying it backwards. Rubbing my face and listening to radiohead. Not feeling alive or liberated yet, as I would have hoped would have happened now that things are over at school. No, they have just begun. Saying such fucking cliches over and over and over and over. Horrible late night TV and music are the only ones keeping me company. Exchange pleasantries with the ghosts of the past. Hit rewind and replay thinking about the ghost of the present. Be troubled because there's no ghost of the future saying a word.

An old aquaintance today, pointed out the way the world is. How people are egotistical and such and don't change for the better. How no one will go the extra mile on major issues. He's younger, so I suppose I can't say he's only figuring things out now. But figuring things out he is. More so, then perhaps, the kids at the local bar. Another long, long story. that you've read before. That I need to get off of. That's never going to change because all I am ever going to do is type this and only 4 people, if that, are going to ever read it. And they're going to say, "Hey, cool" and I wont change the world and that'll be the end of it.

Huckaby will change the world, though, alright. He's got the "christian" right on his side. Tote your bibles, but only the parts that say ignore everyone not from america. That tell you to build fences and chant USAUSAUSA at people who want to be here like were fucking hot shit. Like we've got rights they don't have. Because we are um... we were born lucky. Someone asked me the other day, if I were a lucky guy. I think I said no, but I should have said yes. I'm a miserable, lucky guy. My daily life may get stuck with unlucky situations and misfortunes, but... I should stop complaining. It's unlucky, yes, but I am lucky that I can get unlucky.

Maybe one day I'll get lucky again.

Shadowplay

It's like playing the lotto. Put your name in the hat, too. Hope you get drawn. Hope salvation rests on the paper. Hope things aren't empty.

Pick up the habits.
Put your shades on.
Wear the clothes.
Pretend like no one's alive.
You're the only one.

Things are going to close in. Buy insurance policies. Bite your tongue, before the house falls. Before hatred comes because you feel.

Sweet surrender be true

fractured and frantic. pick the pieces up off the floor, no use there. Not feeling up to anything. Please quiet down, I'm trying to think. Trying to feel alive, relieved of all piled onto me. I've not done well on anything. My heart isn't hear anymore. I think it's gone. Not in a bus in alaska, not home, not close to this computer into which I type. It's peeling away like the banana sticker on my desk. It lacks adhesiveness to what I stick to. and yet, and yet, no one can ever make it the same. No one has glue. Press it back on, hope it sticks, one more day. Two more stapled together packets. Two more demoralizing defeats into the face of the one staring blankly at a book, instead of shouting about. Trained repeatedly to lack feeling. It's means nothing. We're hear to have a good time and be dust. [we can't be, can we?] To take care of ourselves at the brutal expense of others. No feelings involved. You can't have them. Sweet lies, do not be true.

Weird Fishies/Arpeggi

Swirling in a bowl. [plz don't tap the glass] There's no where to go to hide yourself from all that's around year. No way to react to anything you see. Just float, breathe, watch as everything flies by and tips a bit of food into your bowl.

This is my life in a fishbowl. I've got no arms or legs, just flippers and gills. I can't control what occurs in my life. Dragged downstream by the current towards an unknown, vast destiny that may or may not be enticing. Either way, it looks like I'm going to have to keep heading towards it. No way back, now.

Anything for now

"...Next and last stop. This train is going into storage. Everyone must exit the train..."
I wondered downtown today. To go christmas shopping, was the excuse. To get away from my situation is the reason. Get away from the air guitar and random shouts and final examinations. Into the world of fallen merchandise, illicit holes in the wall, and swanky cafes. Into the world of marble floors, the little security guard with the electric menorah on the desk, besides the perfect christmas tree. Can't touch what comes through the door. Can't stay there too long, either...

Life in a glass house

Here you go sire. Finest wine on the silverest platter. 1 mole thick. You're the greatest, only you. Finest resturants and social gatherings make you a great guy. The money in your pocket makes you complete. Everyone after what you've got. Connections to the moon. Yet you're not happy. Step outside in the rain.

Dead at 19

Michael Keaveney died at 2AM this morning. He leaves behind a body and a persona known as "guy". His death was the end of a long and unsucessfull battle with faulty wiring, paranoia, and expectations. He'd never been quite right. Always confused and scared as he lay awake. Wondering why no one was ever ever ever there. Phantoms of himself arose to point and prod at every mistake he's ever made. Many, many phantoms. Meanwhile, Ann Coulter pukes up her dinner. Meanwhile, Bush sleeps soundly. Meanwhile, someone's really dieing, never to see the rising of this sun. Meanwhile, the bar across the way dance to stupidly loud dance music and inhale death.

All this time, he couldn't chase away what he's done. His beliefs, his hopes, his faith in humanity and the goodness/unselfishness of people died. He was 19 years old. He leaves behind a shell named guy, who continues on to work a 9-5 and never hope or dream or trust again.

Set fire to flames

I used to think that only anarchists and revolutionaries liked burning things. That theory, however, was just proven wrong in the bathroom. The conservatives of the world once again showed their poor judgment and burned an informational sign. [maybe the sign was too blunt and vulgar, put perhaps it got it's point across] In an enclosed bathroom. In a tinderbox full of drunk kids who may or may not wake up with the fire alarm. Very wise choice. I suppose, though, he was keeping in line with the practice of not negotiating with terrorists. [by terrorist, they mean everyone who isn't a flag waving republican]

There's nothing I like more than smelling something horrid burning. I'm going to say something. I have to say something. I've got too much anger, lately, to not say anything. Everything has been grating, in one way or another. Everything has been wrong. It's horrible. I'll report back after the mission is complete, maybe.

Mission completeness status: It was a candle. That candle smelled like crap. It wasn't just his candle, I think. He'd his beer on his desk. Terse words for someone caught in the middle of everything.

No Surprises.

Can't find the words. Perhaps other people write nicer ones. Like Thom Yorke, who wrote the song of the same title as this entry. It talks about work slowly killing you. And bringing down the government that doesn't speak for us. And other things that are paining me.

"I'll take a quiet life, a handshake with carbon monoxide, with no alarms and no surprises, please"

The Consumation of an Empire.

Three Thirty in the afternoon. Two little girls.
"Oh, wait, this isn't the 8th floor! {no shit} Haha, shit, I have to go to class like this." [insert noticing the poland spring bottle. insert the heavy smell of alcohol and giggliness] "Look, he's shaking his head in disgust" {damn right I am}

Is this what we've come to? I dunno. I've had a chat or two about it today. And now that I think about it, it's what life is around here, to some. The eternal question looms heavy, "Are you going out tonight?"

But, what does it matter? Just a different circle? Is it more noble to stay in?

These hands could've moved mountains

What keeps us ticking? Keeps us moving forward into this perceived gloom? Does the gloom exist? Around us, death destruction and violence are common. In us, we've got so many stupid internal conflicts going on it's a mess to deal with it all. What are we doing? Saving our own skins? Can we do anything but save ourselves? If we can't do anything besides saving ourselves, then I think that, perhaps, we are already here in the gloom.

They put up smoke machines to keep us blind. Give us a lollipop to suck on. Big screen TVs = happiness here, next to the model child and white picket fence. Hire the illegals to do our dirty work while wasting our breath saying they should leave. They're immigrants after all, not humans. Romney is the animal among us. The pig among us.

So. What do we do? How do we keep going?

Happy Happy Joy Joy

This honey mustard chicken sandwhich from the cafeteria is good. It's rare that such fine cuisine so graces my presence. The experience is topped off with insessant christmas music reverberating from the speakers next door. Such a great place to sit and do work. Truly 5 star.

Metro Mile End

This is it. No more jester. No more being around just for entertainment of others while I'm stuck trying to balance doing the right thing with my innards. So, as the great Hank Williams said, "Now you-ah gonna change, or Im-ma gonna leave."

So, I suppose this is the danger of posting on consecutive days. Yesterdays thoughts are still fresh. I felt like that this day was, though, a little better. But, on the other hand, my decision to start burying things should probably stand. I don't think I've been hurt. But I don't know if I want to go down these roads. It's disconcerting, really, to look at reality. My future as a person who is thought of as having a smart head on his shoulders rests on 50 multiple choice questions on the obscure topics of chemistry. I don't want my happiness to be affected by it. There's more important things. But it can't be stopped.

This subway has gone off the rails.

Fuck this place!

Why are we doing this? Playing the same games on each other and not understanding? Revolving in tiny spheres. Kidding ourselves.

This shouldn't happen. We have it all. All of us. Your reading this, so you're not fucking starving or broke off your ass. So we've got fucking money, guy, but why the fuck aren't we any better for it? Seems like we can't just take it easy. We can't say, hey, my life sucks, but it's not bad compared to others, really.

My life's not great, but it's better than most.
My life's not great, I'm not cursed with being born into a project.
My life's not great, I'm going to a nice school and have a good future.
My life's not great, but I've food on my plate.

I've got to stop it. Shut it all away. I don't need anything else. Take it all. I just need to take what I've got with a humble smile. That's my key out, I think. What else need I worry about? That my roommate will be a douche bag? That I'll fail a few tests? Those aren't bad, but I've got food.

So fuck tests.
Fuck complaining.
Fuck self-esteem. [doesn't matter how I see myself. I've got it all]
Fuck materialism and style.
Fuck the republicans bitching about immigration while people starve.
Fuck the thuoghts in my brain.

Fuck this place.