May 2000
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May is named after the goddess Maia, the wife of Mars. May is a month of purification and religious ceremony in honor of the dead.
I reckon there are plenty in my life who are dead and I'm going to see about doing something regarding them. In addition to the people that I'm dead to because of my action or inaction.
Pudding, the oldest, blackest, wisest cat that I've ever known. Her life ended on the operating table when the doctor sedated her to fix her broken leg. I know that she would've lived much longer if they just set her bone and left it at that.
Sunny, my yellow lab who was my friend for the longest time. He was put down after a tumor in his back made it impossible for him to walk with his hind legs.
My grandfather who was married to two women. My grandmother and his business. I never understood why he was so proud of me when I amounted to nothing.
My grandmother who showed me how real love should be. Without her influence I'd be a worse human being than I am already.
I'd write about people that probably consider me dead to them but I'm certain the wrong message would come across here. Not as much to the people who I reckon consider me dead but the people who read this feature regularly. I don't consider being dead to someone a bad thing overall, just part of a cycle of relationships and friendships (if one wants to be hopeful, that is. i learned long ago that hope and prayer are worth nothing. faith doesn't stop you from dying after falling off the roof of a thirty story building. parachutes do, and it'd be silly to start a religion about parachutes. this is my mountain dew, drink it in memory of me. this is my powersauce bar, eat it in memory of me. whoa.).
Maybe I'll write about it tomorrow. I'm not feeling as down as I was a few hours ago.
Mundane stuff. I cleaned up my room again, did lots of laundry, had a big breakfast and a loevly dinner with my father, cleaned around the house, went outside for a bit and took a nap. Sent out resumes. Ah.
Just got in, it's about 4:24 a.m. and I need to get some sleep. Was out late after the game talking with Brian, catching him up on things, venting and sharing stuff while he did the same back with his life. It was chilly but I didn't feel it until I was walking back home and my back stiffened from tiny shivers meant to keep me warm that I just ignored from tension or they weren't strong enough to be of notice.
I'll write more later on today. Definitely need to sleep, but first to update my gaming diary.
Hee, I was going to add on to the diary entry just below this but that would be silly since it is the third and no longer could be considered the second even though I do update my diary in the wee small hours of the morning when it's considered to be the next day.
I made up L5R cards for everyone at the game last night and I'm going to redo the cards here. Maybe I'll get around to redoing the Simpson L5R cards properly instead of just having text.
I had a long talk with Brian after the game. He said that there were a lot of parallels between us and I agreed. The first half of our relationships were based around infidelities and trying to spare the feelings of someone else at the cost of the relationship. In the end it all amounted to nothing. In his case, the woman he was trying to spare was an emotional trainwreck who desperately needed a slap in the face. In my case, it was all for nothing and I lost a friend.
Now there are separations. Issues about two separate lives. Distance.
I feel for him and I hope that he's able to pull through this and have things work out in the end because I know how he feels about Dee. I just have myself. Hee, I was going to write something vicious about myself (antisocial, withdrawn, angry, etc...) but what's the point? Most of you know that already but on the other hand most of you know that's just my perception of myself because out of every human being on this planet there is no one so vicious to me than me.
One thing that made me feel good about talking with Brian last night is that he said he admired the patience I have with people. Others have remarked upon my patience (Kinja, for one) but this time it was a realization that I am patient with people. That's a Good Thing (tm). Unfortunately I now know that my patience will break.
That tired bubanella above this entry is a thylacine, also known as the Tasmanian tiger. The last known representative of his species, Benjamin, died on September 7, 1936. In captivity, these beasties were sad and unresponsive to people. I hope that there are thylacines out in the wild somewhere because that will give the world a little bit of wonder back if these beasties step out of the shadow of extinction to say, "Just kidding, you bastards." Part of me feels that they won't come back unless people clone them.
I had a chance to phone hhsb today and it was funny that she brought up that I have quite a NJ accent since it's something I haven't noticed. Then again, you eventually get used to the stink of poop if you're around it enough. The other funny revelation was how insular my diary is. Feh, I thought I went out more but in retrospect (not that much retrospect actually, I do plan on reading my diary from the first entry up to the most current) I guess that I don't venture outdoors as much even though there are times where I feel like I just run around all day.
Come to think of it, I've extended my room to my car, to the local libraries, to my father's business, to the church I park at and the way I walk home late at night. I need to get out more and get that feeling again where I truly felt like I was outside, as if someone high overhead and enormous lifted the lid of the cage and let me feel a cool breeze while I was hunkered down in my cedar shavings.
One last thing, I went through diaries.html looking for the particular diary entry where I mentioned the outside feeling and I mentioned being outdoors quite a lot. I didn't count though.
An update? In the middle of the day?
I went into NYC for an interview and it went well enough. This company was looking for someone to run their network (just a computer running NT hooked up to other computers). I didn't come across as entirely incompetent and I hope that goes in my favor. After getting back into town I drove over to the memorial park where my grandparents remains are located. I wished my grandfather a happy belated birthday (it was two days ago) and spoke quietly with them. It was nice to see that the leather sofa was facing their part of the wall. Only thing that I don't like about that place are the bugs. Buzzing about that place are these tiny gnat-like flies, microscopic necrophages that really shouldn't be in there. I know the place is filled with dead folk but I would figure that the caretakers would've made the place bugproof and sealed the dead tightly so the bugs can't get in.
I hope when I die, I get buried in the ground. None of that mausoleum bullshit unless it's a little marble house that I can have all to myself.
The world didn't end. I knew that.
So how was your day? I kept myself fairly busy, let the dogs out a few times, dropped some stuff off at my father's business, went food shopping (and purchased a lot of meat!), made myself meatloaf, cleaned the kitchen so it looks like it was never used and now I'm dicking around on the computer. Later I'm supposed to hear back from my friend to see if he can see Gladiator tomorrow (to accomodate Booner) though Rob said that Saturday would be awful rough on him. But between that, I'm waiting for Pokemon and trying to figure out what I should do.
Head out at 4:30-ish? Wait in my room until late and head to the movies? Blah. I'll do something. Talk to you later. Bye. What? Hehe, sure. Bye.
I'm curious. Have you noticed that there are many laws being put into effect in the name of safety? Laws to make gun ownership difficult. Laws requiring one to wear a seatbelt. Laws to punish you when someone else feels you are being safe and enforced 'for your own good'.
These laws are considered seriously because idle women who've grown tired of raising their husband's child, idle women who become part of the Borg collective of Oprah, idle women. These idle women are afraid. Afraid because they're married to pussies.
Pussies who feel the height of manhood is adultery, pussies who feel they should only show strength when raging behind the wheel, pussies who can not tell the truth because they have been taught they are not responsible for their actions. Pussies who do themselves a disservice by allowing women to have power over them in the name of getting their collective dicks wet.
If men didn't fall into the gentle trap of safety and not want to escape, they would be manlier than they are already and women would be happier. They would feel secure that they have someone who is more than a drone who brings home a paycheck to support her child hobby. Men would be filled with pride that comes from their accomplishments. People as a whole will take responsibility for their lives rather than allowing themselves to become the government's children.
That's all I have for now, and remember that this was written by an idle man with nothing better to do. Hee, I don't think I can even call myself a man because of the way I've lived.
I feel that religion should be a private thing and shouldn't be shared except in one way. Sharing the thought of "I love God" rather than discussing morals or how one perceives God. Discussing the latter will only lead to division. Unfortunately people like to know they're part of a group and the best way they can feel they are part of a group when they are not in a leadership capacity is when they are being divisive and causing a schism based on nothing. Martin Luther had a legitimate point when he split from the church. Some dork in a church who doesn't like you because you see things differently doesn't have a point because when you boil away the thin Bible arguements it ends up being just his opinion.
Church is a construct of man and the sad thing is that people end up believing more in the church than God because they are lacking in faith. The church is there and it takes God's role by being a caregiver, advisor and place to socialize. This does not do God any justice and taking it to an extreme one could call it idolatry. Anyway, I digressed. People should just love God, attend church for fellowship, but worship God in their own special way through actions rather than through ceremony. God knows he's good and doesn't need some passion play or praying five times towards some far-away city or reading from some old scrolls. Do him right by actions. God understands because God loves you as much as you love him. Or more than you love him sometimes.
Me? I don't believe in your God. Your Yahweh. Your Allah. Your Krishna. Nor do I believe in your particular structure that was built up around faith. I believe in myself, mostly. I'm getting better in believing in myself though. I don't need to huddle under a single roof once a week and play sing-along. I don't think anyone should, but I shouldn't piss on your parade. Just keep out of my hair.
Bah, I'm waiting to hear back from hhsb because she emailed me about yesterday's diary entry. Well not precisely, she tangented on it and discussed how feminism is more about mothers rather than equality. I wrote back something long and rambling stating I understood her point and added that men only have the illusion of power. More guys (from my own observations) are riding in the passenger seat rather than driving. They let their wife/girlfriend drive and I figure they feel it's empowering because they are freed of one more chore they have to do. I see the way men dress, and most men dress like their fucking mothers still dress them. Nope, their girlfriends/wives dress them. They accept this because it frees them from the decidedly female activity of shopping since there are 'more important things to do'. The man's masculinity gets in the way of him being a real man. Understanding his masculinity is not measured by going clothes shopping or a not, but by his actions and being confident in his masculinity.
Then when men do get a chance to go out, it's never without one of their spawn or without their 'significant others'. Plus they drive SUVs (a formerly manly vehicle with a big ass cock swinging down to the knees now relegated to being girly and identified with overprotective mothers) or minivans. Whatever happened to 'his car' and 'her car' and letting them remain separate?Sure a marriage is about two people becoming a couple but this grates on me because I feel people are always individuals first and a couple second. Same goes for parents, they're peole first and parents second.
I'm kinda paraphrasing much of my reply here and I'm not doing myself any justice. And I realized that when I boil down this stuff, it's all about equality, responsibility (okay I didn't cover responsibility in this, foo) and being a distinct individual.
Oh well, I might as well put something in for this entry because it's considered 5/7 instead of the extended night of 5/6.
Tonight when I was moving my car from one parking lot to another I witnessed the death throes of cool weather. Already the night was filled with the ominous susurration of air conditioners, as if they were calling out through time to awaken the cicadas earlier than they should be so the night can be alive with their droning.
The sound of air conditioners sounds like heat. Dull, oppressive and repetitive (kind of like my diary entries). I just wish that things weren't so warm, so humid. It can't be too much to want things to be around eighty degrees by day and fifty degrees at night in the summer.
Time for bed with my sticky balls.
Yesterday I was reading about writing and while I was reading it I wondered if I had anything to say. Been told that I write purty enough and I still don't believe it because there are many people who could outwrite me. I have story ideas and I'm rethinking if I should keep my story ideas because some of them are old and have been constantly reworked that they might be stale. Maybe they're just one of ten thousand bad stories that I have inside of me that I need to get out of my system before I write something good.
Heck, I've talked about the stories enough but it's not something I want to talk about anymore. Having something in writing is much more important than blowing off a lot of hot air about something that might very well not come to fruition.
That's something I noticed in late high school and colege, people would have grand visions, start them a bit or talk about them to death (I think it's because they were hoping they'd talk about stuff, get people's interest and then not have to do a darned thing. They could just sit back and take all the credit of the labor of others) then just stop and start something new and ambitious that would end up stillborn like the ones previous.
I don't have the money to head back to school. I reckon going to college stunted me because I was going to college for a piece of paper that said "Hire me. We put our seal of approval on him." instead of going to college to learn.
Then again, the things I wanted to learn were so diverse I didn't have an agenda (like I have one now). I had a point where I knew I wanted to be a cartoonist but that just fell apart once I left school and discovered the internet. That sucked me in and pushed aside all other ambitions.
The other day I was thinking to myself that I shouldn't envy people who had cities to congregate in that were the centers of culture and the greatest creative minds gathered to share ideas because I have access to the internet. I would hope that sometime in the future if I do get some measure of fame through some creative endeavor that people think, "Wow, it must've been a golden age on LambdaMOO. LambdaMOO's not around anymore/not the same. I wish I was there."
You can stop laughing now.
Lemme see what dead stuff I've covered so far. Death of creativity, death of faith, death of cool weather, the end of the world, the extinction of the thylacine, the ending of relationships and endings in general. The next update to this page (not until later tonight) will be a quote and a link to what it's relevant to.
Therapy was cancelled. Other than that it was just another Monday. Do you wanna hear more bitching about my mother? Once again I feel trapped in this situation because once I start making an effort to get out, I won't get out fast enough. Kinja called and it was civil and stuff so that was a good thing. Lemme see, not much else.
My blood ran cold when I was outside so the dogs could pee. The wind in the trees mixed with some other sound made a phantom cicada noise. I cringed just a bit waiting for the chorus to rise about me and force summer into being far before it really should be.
Just got back from gaming, had a grand old time writing up a treatment for The Simpsons and their annual Treehouse of Horror episode by doing a sketch based on Akira. I tried to write it as fast and furiously as possible including lots of action and gore. I also thought up some silliness with Rob and Brian about a blaxploitation version of The Matrix with "X" being Neo, "Agent Cracker" for Agent Smith, and lots of other silly stuff. I had a creative night and was glad I was on the sidelines because it helped me think and be creative like I used to be in math class. At least I'm interested in the game :)
I'll leave you all with a joke I made up tonight.
What do you get when you have unprotected sex with a pikachu?
Thunderclap!
Bah, I can't believe I forgot to write this down. Once again I learned not to even try to reach out to my mother or try to share anything with her. It's a lost cause.
She came downstairs and said she had to use the computer on Monday. Fine. I closed everything out and returned to the browser she left open on the webpage she left it at. I also left open the URL for a photograph of the planetary alignment from 5/5/00 and when she was nearby I said, "Hey, if you're interested..." and she cut me off saying "No, I really am not interested."
Stupid, stupid me. Somehow I got the anger out of my system. Writing this now I'm deciding where my anger lies. Part of it or most of it definitely goes on me for being stupid and optimistic at trying to reach out. The other part that is wounded and really oughtn't be wounded because I oughta have a big scar over that part makes me wish that I leapt over the desk and pummeled her viciously.
No. Bad bad. No do that. I have life, no throw away on the trash that my mother is, let her be miserable and hope that she doesn't kill my father once I'm out of her house and no longer speaking with her. Christ, if I do win the lottery I will burn the last remaining charred timber that I have (or perceive that I have) with her and do it as viciously as possible. Oh yeah, the part about my mother not killing my father or wearing him down where he just gives out is that she gets angry easily and the only logical reason we can apply (fuck you if you think it's sexist, there's no seeing any reason or logic in her actions or thoughts) is her periods. Anyway, I reckon if I'm out of the house then she'll just bear down on him full force rather than splitting it between my father and myself. I love my father very much and don't want that to happen, especially if it's coming from someone he loves so much and he has infinite patience with.
Here's that Jigglypuff mp3 that I talked about on the stonecutters channel last night. I wonder if Metallica will sue me now. Jeez they suck. They start doing crap music in Load that's eaten up by the "jocks wearing their baseball hats backwards stupid popular chicks who think they're making themselves accessible to every strata of society by listening to the music that burnouts listen to (or so she heard)" crowd and completely against the grain of what the original fans liked about Metallica. Now Metallica's going after fans who are trading mp3s which isn't any different than giving someone a taped copy of Ride the Lightning. Sellout peckers. Why couldn't have Hetfield been crushed in that bus accident and Ulrich lost his arm instead of that guy from Def Leppard? At least Metallica would've broken up and there wouldn't be the crap that is Load and Re-Load (ooh, i bet they stayed up all night thinking that one up).
Strange thing. Malyss has started talking to me again. The conversations have been civil and all that. This is strange because last week Kinja started talking to me again, then Malyss starts talking to me, then Brian has a ray of hope regarding his situation with Deanna. I'm not saying my stuff is a 'ray of hope' but it is nice to be able to talk to people who I thought I'd never speak to again, regardless of past words.
I hope that hotmail starts working again soon. I need to check my email, dammit.
Thanks Mynx for letting me know about my HTML fuckup! Whew.
It's raining with big raindrops 'n thunder 'n lightnin' 'n all that good stuff! I walked around in it and felt the rain on my face! This is the perfect apology (pardon my anthropomorphisizing nature) for the heat wave. Outside it's so cool, wet and wonderful plus my sneakers are soaked the way I describe them being soaked at my room on Lambda.
Woo hoo! Time to meet the hunky guys who make up the Tuesday game that I ramble about on my gaming page
spivak, Brian, Tim, Rob and Booner too!
Screw it. This is my diary entry for today. A picture is worth a thousand words. BRING ON THE NAKED CHICKS!!!
I think it's a bit sad that the violence that guys live through vicariously isn't even real violence. The blood spilt is akin to the blood spilt when one cuts their hand slicing a bagel. Men, as a whole, have been neutered because it /might/ threaten the lives of pregnant mothers and mothers with little children which are apparently a higher order of citizen than the common rabble which they are bloating with each spent spoonful of jizzum and slimy egg that never should have existed. Life is too safe nowadays and life is becoming boring. I am becoming restless seeking adventure. There are no new lands to conquer. No new people to conquer. Overall we're in an era of peace that is marred only by delightfully bloody outbreaks in countries that are spelled with no vowels. The internet is so strong because it plays on people's shortcomings of being image conscious, not knowing how to interact with people after the lengthy age of television which kept us inside without ever speaking a word other than "I like the Dukes of Hazzard. Do you?", gives people something that is obtainable unlike the television industry, gives people a voice, a reason to communicate even if it is in badly composed netsex. People can stake a claim on something, pioneer style, and feel gratification that they made a mark of some sort. IMO, this is going to be an empty feeling.
People don't have anywhere to go except their homes. People can't live on the internet, per se, they still need homes in the real world and in the real world there is no more open space. Just sprawl. Soul deadening sprawl. This sprawl deadens the eyes of the populace who are ill-prepared to deal with such a phenomenon because for years they allowed the government to take on the role of parent while they sat at home watching TV after a day in the mines. Safety abounds, freedom is absent. Freedom is just a shadow on the wall of the cave and we're watching it like we watched TV rather than turning around and looking at the real world and grasping freedom and realzing that safety is nice in small doses. It is time for a war. A truly bloody war that will wipe the slate clean and rouse the sleeping giant that is America to inspire hope in the masses, making them feel involved.
Involvement is seriously important after decades of television culture. People need to use their hands. People need to taste death. People need to experience danger and the wonderful rush that goes along with it. I'm not speaking of the Mountain Dew riding a bike out of a plane and screaming until they hit a trampoline on the surface of the Earth. Truly dangerous things which pay off with great rewards. Fortune favors the bold! And this time the bold have to be physically bold instead of mentally because there are enough mental strongmen sitting quietly in our neighborhoods who are mired in physical apathy.
What am I going to do? Hope that I inspire someone.
Alright, a little bird told me that they don't believe the picture of my gaming friends that I posted yesterday. Untrustworthiness will always do right by you! I decided to post an actual picture of us right before last Tuesday's game! Click here!
Long day and night spent with friends. Saw Kinja earlier this afternoon for lunch then went to see Gladiator again with Brian, Tim and Rob (not buddha). I'm beat to shit and I need sleep. Decided to post a little something.
When I walk on the sidewalk, I have this obsession with walking in a pattern.
|_
|_| two steps
|_| one step
|_| one step
|_| two steps
|_| one step
|_| one step
|_| two steps
|_| one step (rest)
|_| one step (rest)
And the pattern begins anew. Seven sidewalk slabs. Ten steps. There you have it, my little compulsion/obsession.
I had a strange dream. It was night time and I sitting outside a ruined movie theater wearing something shiny and black. There was a point where I came out of myself and saw that I was clean shaven, had short hair and my skin was very pale. I could also see every star in the firmament which made me happy. What made the scene strange is I knew that I was the one who burned everything down. Over and over I repeated the line "My father chastised you with whips. I will chastise you with scorpions." in my head until I got up to walk away because I didn't want any more memories. Memories from sitting and thinking back about stuff in my past.
When I awoke, I rummaged through my purple box for some blank Mother's Day cards but I couldn't find any. I couldn't find any which has me partly on edge because I don't know if psychobitch is going to not care if she doesn't get a card or if she'll make it an issue to wear down on me. Fuck it. Anyway while going through the box I found a card that I received on my birthday back in my senior year of high school. It was a secret admirer card and I reckon that it's one of the meanest things that has ever been done to me under the guise of something good. The postmark is NYC which led me to believe that my father (he denies it) probably had one of his friends do it to give me hope or something. Also the zip code was wrong but it was the zip code for the next town over where my father runs his business. Nobody at school knew my address except skanky Jill (pregnant out of high school, last heard she has three sprogs, eew) and my old friends.
Bah. I'll just stuff this fucker back in my purple box and forget about it.
Today I was a bodyguard for my therapist and made twenty bucks. The client she had after my session was a woman who is on parole and a recovering heroin addict and my therapist was worried that something bad would happen because of her patient's history. Ended up that I did nothing, just sat and read Spoon River Anthology in the waiting room and kept my ears open for anything untoward. Nothing happened and it was easy. Plus the patient was thin and didn't seem to have any real mass, but she could've been quick. My therapist requested that I perform this service again in the future and I accepted. Easy money.
Now I have to move my car back to the church.
One last thing, my father told me that my mother asked him "Where did I go wrong?" (though not in so many words, that was the basic gist of the conversation) yesterday and it threw me for a loop. It only verified that I need to get out of this house and get out now before I fall into any cycles again. Jeez, when I heard that from my father I was disoriented but I felt like I came up for air for the first time realizing my father's almost as screwy as my mother and being here is definitely no good for my mental health.
Tonight's game was awful fun especially because I was able to do a few things and have some spotlight on my character. I'm glad that ShadowTurtle is a medical examiner/coroner for a job when he's not out busting heads and crime. I posted all about it on my gaming page. Woo hoo!
Today was just a regular day. I did have some trepidation about driving down to the game but things went well enough and there were no hassles. Just sad that Brian didn't show up and that Diane fell asleep because she was seriously sick to her stomach. Just hope it wasn't my b.o..
Not much else. See ya.
I can't see any good. Just bad. This sucks. And like I'd fucking tell you.
On a different note, I really need to break this feeling that I should have some sort of obligation towards people because it only hampers me. Try as I might, I never am truly able to put myself first despite my blustering. Why don't I? Somehow I know (or feel) that I'm secondary, tertiary or something to everyone else in my life that I care about. I don't give a shit about myself, why the fuck should I give a shit about you? Makes me happy to put that across on Lambda but sometimes things just get to bugging me.
Stuff from online oughtn't bug me. Online is not real. Sadly the day I broke that mindset that online isn't real I became just another 'brain in a jar' online adding nothing but my own hot air with no original content.
I'm replaceable. Easily forgotten. I'm just talking. This isn't a cry for help or attention.
Whee. Playing StarCraft. I've been through these terran campaigns (up to the one after Norad II but then I stop) but I reckon I'm going to see how far I will go. I will be delighted if I finish and go on to Zerg. Hehe. I hope that Tim has StarCraft installed on his computer so I could play him over the net.
Not much else. Maybe more later. It's awful late at night and I should head to bed.
Had free Chinese food tonight. You'd be amazed what one can find in dumpsters. People throw away the damnedest things. No, my father got Chinese. I should've went with him but I wanted to stay home for some reason.
Had a strange dream a few nights ago where I was getting Chinese food and the chick behind the counter hits on me (definitely the first clue it is a dream, would never happen for real) but she doesn't speak a lick of English. So I just start babbling on about how the USA is being run by an entrenched matriarchy and the vast elder penis shadow of what once was is slowly being usurped by mothers, my Dexter story and why my room is filled with emtpy Citra cans while we walk back to my house which apparently turned into a ballroom with an onyx floor and purple drapes that were jutht fabulouth. I laid down on the floor and she sat next to me and I palmed her ass. After her next breath she finally could speak English and wouldn't shut the fuck up. She wanted to meet my family. I vomited and wrapped myself in the curtains and the dream subsided.
Ecch, I forgot to mention that I have a sore throat of sorts (I blame tap water) and my father told me to have some of this Eye Bright tea. I made myself a cup and quickly drank half of it. Man that was fucking awful. After mixing it with a heaping spoonful of sugar I could choke the rest down. I figure that probably worked against any good this vile brew was supposed to do for me.
I just moved my car down to the church. I had a spooky feeling thinking about how dark it really would be if there were no lights, no ambient light pollution from the highways and New York City. The sky would be so bright with the river of stars long hidden by the hubris of our earthly constellations. A return of the dichotomy of the bright evening sky that sheds no light unless there's a moon shining high overhead.
You know what would be neat? No, you don't but I'll write it here anyway. I wish that more people from this forsaken bedroom community were online. Deep down I really want to see that the people who I knew back in K-9 were online and chatting away in some single area. I hated those years of my life. I had three good friends, the fat filipino, the italian retard and the neo-nazi with a hardon for princess leia. Of course as time wore on my crowd changed, but it seemed my cliques were just more of the same. The people nobody hung around just getting together because they feel like they should. Heck, I didn't even think that I was the leader. I dunno if there was one.
Anyway.
It'd be awful keen to just redo those social years all over again but online. See how things go. Purely for my own curiousity. Also to fulfill the little kid inside of me who wants to know if I could've screwed this one JAP or get dirt on this meathead and have it spread around like so much innuendo from LambdaMOO.
Nope, I don't obsess on this but every few years I get into these kinds of moods. Right now I blame the cold/allergy that's affecting me.
I hope that I am awake. So far so good.
I woke up from a nightmare that was really disturbing and I'm glad that I did wake up to escape it. I haven't had a nightmare like this in quite a while. I went to the movies with my friend Tim. The theater was one of those old fashioned ones with red rugs, carved gilt curlicues on the walls and dim lights out in the lobby. Outside the marquee was very bright and there was a vertical sign that blinked "Cinema". Once we got inside and paid for our tickets, the theater was full except for a hot tub. We shrugged and got in and Devo bobbed up from under the water. She said hello to both of us and she leaned her head against my shoulder when there was a loud snap and she went limp. Tim's face went white and I nudged her but her neck was all wiggly and I knew that she was dead.
The strange part of the dream is that I took the body, placed it underwater, did the Heimlich maneuver to fill her with water then brought her above water and did the Heimlich maneuver again to see if water would squirt out of her mouth. Tim was yelling at me and I looked up, the hot tub was outside of the theater just under the marquee. I got out of the tub, grabbed a pillow and put Devo inside. Tim ran over to my car and we sped off not knowing what to do. I was relying on Tim to think of something but I knew he'd be rational and say "Go to the police." I hugged the pillow close to me and felt bad and the horror of the situation started dawning on me. I ran out of the car with the pillow and ran down the street screaming hoping that I would wake up and this would be over. After trying a few wake-up techniques, I realized that this wasn't a dream and felt trapped. Tim caught up with me once I had run to my house. There were people home and I felt good because I could go in and talk with someone. Once I was in the foyer, I woke up and I forced myself to stay up beating my mattress and staring at the ceiling.
My father wasn't home, I was going to ask him to slug me hard in the arm to wake me up. So I went upstairs and put both of my fists over the burners on the stove to make sure that I was truly awake. Here I am. So far. So good.
Just got up, nothing to add really except I was able to fall asleep last night despite my fears of having more nightmares. I almost let irrational fear overcome me when the TV finally clicked off from the sleep function when I rolled over and looked at my door (my eyes having adjusted to the darkness) where I saw a black shadow limned in green light. I immediately turned over and hugged my pillows tighter for a few minutes. Realization dawned on me, it was just the light from my old clock radio glowing against my Ganesha statuette casting that shadow upon my door. Why wasn't it blinking though? I haven't set my clocks (except the one on TV) in a month because we were having brownouts so often that it wasn't worth it to reset. I know once I reset all the clocks in my room the power will go out for a few minutes then click back on again making my efforts for naught.
Speaking of brownouts, I pooped really loose today but it was a strange feeling. All greasy and stuff. When I came back to the toilet (I left Rocco in my bedroom and he was crying up a storm which got on my nerves) I saw there were spherical, brown turds floating in the murky water. Most fascinating!
Okay, I'm up awful late and I said I would be playing StarCraft but I ended up being distracted by updating my website. Basically I revamped the archives for my personal page putting each month on a page all by its lonesome so stuff loads quicker. Having unlimited space, I really don't care if I have 500 different html documents since it's better than having one document that's 300k and not a porno pic.
I also started tinkering with an alternative to the moogallery someone else made. Their page loads slowly and one must hunt through various pics on various pages to see the picture of the fatty they want to make fun of. I mean the MOOer they want to see out of genuine curiousity. With mine, one only has to click the name of the MOOer one wants to see. Just disappointed that when I tried to add links which would give emails and URLs the page got cluttered. Check it out.
Okay, it's ten minutes to two. I'm going to head off to bed and have sleepytime soon. No more procrastinating from sleep with valuable HTML experience!!!
Gaming was fun. Something I noticed about myself started really bugging me. Whenever I get quiet when I'm alone and my mind starts wandering in private thoughts if I see that I don't like the direction of the thoughts, I'll start saying "shut up, spivak" and cursing randomly. At worst, there will be times where I'll space out in public with friends and I'll start mumbling to myself to get myself to stop thinking and to get back into reality and my friends will ask me "What did you just say?" or "What are you saying?" and I'll get embarassed which will overwhelm the feeling inside of me.
On another note, I need to get it through my thick skull to live for myself and to make myself happy because if I'm happy the rest of the world will be happy for me and be a generally nicer place rather than going through life hampering myself at the expense of other people's feelings or stopping myself from doing something from a perceived notion of failure.
When I went to bed last night, I was very overtired and it took breathing on a four count to get myself centered and in a mindset to start falling asleep. Disappointing that after doing the four count breathing it didn't start going by itself and help me sleep. Eventually I did sleep. I was touched (my heart, not the 'no, go, tell an adult you trust' touching) last night and it stuck with me as a good/bad feeling. Unfortunately I would obsess on the bad and it would keep me awake. That seems to be when I would start cursing at myself or rapping my knuckles against something in hopes of banishing that thought.
That's all I want to share right now. Time to do the gaming entry.
Strange. When my parents are away I'm much more productive than when they are at home. One of the first times they were away was when I first developed this vanity web page back in December. Come January, Mynx gave me a project to do for her which I promptly put off to the side because of various circumstances in my life that were causing serious drama that needed my full attention. Sorry lady, but I do have most of the posts archived in HTML. You just have to send me the ones I don't have and we'll discuss the rest. Okay? Okay.
But I got the web page's stylesheet done and I've stopped tinkering with the hof.html file because I had the stylesheet working in just the right way and then I ruined it after trying to get a little more complicated. I'll deal with that particular mess when I'm more awake.
One last note, I got an angle for June's journal entries and I'm looking forward to it. Ain't gonna tell anyone else though. Pllbbbbttt.
I have one last thing to add before I go off to bed and rest for a new day. While staying up this late I came across an article about a computer being run by potatoes like those clocks they sell in science catalogs. Very cool. It's at http://totl.net/Spud. While reading all about this little 386 machine, I finally clicked on the link that took me to the machine and I had an experience I haven't felt in quite a while. I felt like I was actually there in the little computer over in England. The internet worked its magic on me for the first time in a while. The last time I felt something like this was when I first started out on Sprawl and I was fascinated by the virtual environment and all the cool things there. I was actually there in those little $rooms. A wonderful time where I wasn't a brain in a jar reading lists and writing stupid things. This feeling is indescribable but I do hope that there are some people out there reading this who understand what I'm talking about and make any more words unnecessary.
I'm having a very hard time dealing with my anger right now. It boiled up and over me leaving me seething at the thought of being abandoned here. Yes, I had a little money from my bodyguarding work plus an extra fifteen dollars. All that went into groceries which might last me until Sunday if I really stretch things. Basically I am trapped. Sure I can stay here, read the paper, send out resumes but I have no gas to get anywhere even to an interview. Lucky me, I don't have any interviews. I want out of this place, I want away from my father and my mother. Away from my father with the self-same intense emotion that separates me from my mother. I should really look into the whole 'finding a place while seeing the USA' so I don't have to come back to this insane asylum.
I'm trying to lose myself in correspondence with MOOers, letters and all that. There's a certain sweetness to making a letter, mailing it and wondering when I'll hear someone online go "I got a letter from spivak" and have a good feeling. Hard part is being myself without being repellent and bitching about my situation because when the letter arrives this situation will be well over and I'll look goofy.
I can't shake this anger. Plus my therapist asked that I be civil to my father if and when he phones home to check up on my sister at his business so I don't ruin his vacation. It'll be rough, especially since a forced neutral mood will come across forced.
Good night.
Knock knock
Who's there?
Cthul.
Cthul who?
Ehhhehehehehhheee, nice 1 =D
Oh well, the 'spud server' story was a joke. This article explains it all. Foo. Thanks GreyDruid for pointing me to this article.
Ooh, I'm doing this in green.
___
(0o)
/||\
This was a pleasant surprise. Kinja phoned me and asked if I wanted to go out to a bar with her. I had nothing else to do and getting out seemed like a decent enough idea so I met up with her and we went to a little bar on Rt. 46 for an hour or so. We just sat, drank (she needed a beer, I stuck with soda), talked and stuff. It was pleasant.
My only worry now is wondering when my father's friend is going to come around and pick up his car to be in the Memorial Day parade tomorrow. Grr, it'd be just my luck if he came around while I was sleeping. I'm crossing my fingers that it won't be until late Sunday.
Just watched Lola Rennt, it was pretty good. Kind of like Groundhog Day. Good dialog for a movie with little dialog. "There'll be nothing left of me but 100,000 ashes" and "You're a cuckoo's egg". Mission Impossible 2 was terrible. What is it with Scientologists and these vanity movies? Travolta does Battlefield Earth out of his pocket and puts himself center stage, Cruise gets the girl and shows off like some bad emote of some MOO roleplaying. The only part that seemed intelligent was when the girl shot herself up with the virus to keep herself alive (they wouldn't shoot her because she was the last sample). Other than that, the movie was just loud and pointless.
One thing is pissing me off and I will not stand for this fuckhead trying to pull some shit that "spivak wasn't home". My father's friend who was supposed to come over here, pick up my father's car and drive it one town over so it could be used in the Memorial Day parade never showed up. I am home all fucking day. I'm aware if the dogs are barking and apeshit because someone came to the door to the point I'd wake up every hour or so and check to see if anyone did stop by. The only time I would go out would be around ten or eleven at night when nobody in their right mind would show up. I gave every chance for him to show up. Just hope that he doesn't come by tomorrow morning (jeez, morning's only a few hours away). Christ, I'm dreading the return of my parents big time. Either shit's going to go down or nothing's going to happen. Of course I'm hoping for the worst because when nothing happens I'll be relieved. Mainly it's just about my father which is strange and new.
Lastly, I have yet to beat As the Hammer Falls. I played it a bunch of times and Tim told me that it's the roughest level. I definitely have to beat this so I can play the Zerg and Protoss.
I used a cheat code to finish As the Hammer Falls and I moved on to the Zerg. It's disconcerting because I'm so used to playing Terran so much. I'll just play scenarios over and over until I have everything down pat. The fact that overseers are detectors is very useful. Other than that, the car was picked up, dropped off and everything's fine. Got lucky finding my father's palm pilot and rummaged through his phone directory. I reckon the house is clean enough and there won't be any fussin' or feudin' between my sister and myself so the only tension is my parents' return.
Oh it's gaming night and the feeling's right, oh what a night! Not much going on today, I've gotten frustrated with StarCraft yet again. I'm up to the third Zerg scenario and my enormous Zerg armies are being decimated by these puny terrans.
Okay, I'm done with this month. It's my first complete month of journal keeping since I started this so I'm proud of accomplishing that. In June I'm going to write about the people in my lives, whether they just tangent me or if they're integral to my happiness. I will try to keep each bit about three hundred words or less because I don't want anyone to think I'm showing favoritism (like anyone would want that, 'hey i have spivak's favor'). The names will be drawn at random for the same reason. Only cute thing I have planned, and I thank #90845 for this, is if I'm writing about a MOOer I'm going to put their names in the hex color their object number makes them. I have an example of this on my MOOer picture page.
Not much happened today really and I'm heading to bed once I catch up on Lambda and add tonight's entry to the gaming diary.
