Sitting in English class, learning about MLA, learning about syntax that no longer interests you. You left all that behind when you read fight club. You like Paliniuk format much better. Jump around. Tell a story. Be a narrator. It was something in a clockwork orange that you liked about Alex too, he talked to you, and you liked him very much.
"Amen and all that cal."
And then Alex was gone.
It's alright to think of things like this when you're pondering syntax, but there are much more pressing matters at hand, pressing matters that you'd like a little bit of advice on. It may be a little bit vague.
See there's some one, and you don't know if it's right. See there's some one, and you're not sure if it's all there for the right reasons, or if it's all even there and tangible at all. This is what you wish you knew. Do you act on impulse and try to figure out the situation all by yourself, or do you poke little questions, and try to see if you're right at all? It would be so wrong, it would be a catastrophe if you were wrong, and you poked little questions. But if you were right, what if you were right? What may come would still be delayed, so very very delayed, but at this point you know what a wait is and more often than not a wait has put you in a very very lonely place. That's usually a different kind of wait though, let's start over.
You're a rationalist. Cup's not half empty, cup's not half full, the cup's the wrong size for the water inside of it. You read that on a shirt once, and decided it was quite fitting for the way you think. The world is changeable, and it's changeable at your finger tips. So what do you do? There are words everywhere, but there's meaning sitting at the bottom of some well somewhere twinkling up at a sky you may never be under. In part, if you're wrong, that's okay, it can be fixed, and everything can go back to being just the way it was. You both understand exactly what would happen, and neither of you know if that can happen at all.
Nothing can happen, as a matter of fact.
This is all mishmash, but god knows. We'll pick this up some other time.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
He's relied on this for years
I've never considered myself to be an overly spiritual person. I don't go to church every sunday, I don't kneel down in front of my bed every night to throw my words up to my patron deity, but for some reason I expect some form of protection and respect from whatever it is lingering around up there. I'm sheltered, and I'm not ashamed to say that. My life's been coated in luck and facility.
I've never given any body to my luck, it's just sort of been there. I could throw myself into traffic with all the confidence in the world, and I could fill my body with toxins and not expect the smallest set back. Maybe this is the invincible youth that I think I have. I'm walking a tightrope and hoping that I don't some day fall off. Do you brace yourself for those things? Do you consider the consequences to your actions? Or is it more your own selfish way of living that lets you just get by being content with your present state.
I try to give things up to people. My ear, or my shoulder, or my words. I figure that might be my way of giving back to God. I know this probably sounds really weird to all of you, that I'm suddenly spitting words about Christianity, but I take so much for granted. Some day, I'll be at the bottom of the barrel, no where to go but up, and the first place I'll turn is to those subconscious thoughts of an invisible savior. Maybe that's why I believe, because I see people who have nothing left crawling on their knees and asking for forgiveness. It's almost like, they believe in Him because there's nothing else left to believe in.
It gives me reason enough to throw up my own hands. I feel I've been blessed with something. Blessed with a lot of things. I'm a fatalist, and I'm a rationalist, and I'm a scientist, but I don't know why that has to stop me believing that there's some pinky finger of a God up there jostling fate in one direction or the other. When Rutherford shot an atom at a piece of gold foil, he observed alpha particles reflected on a photo luminescent sheet. Some of the alpha particles hit the sheet infront of the gold foil, light propelled backward. This was the experiment that gave birth to some of the radical multi-verse theories that exist today. There are infinite possibilities to each given decision, and each of those possibilities give birth to another parallel universe. How could something so incredible, so perfect have ever happened, if there wasn't something pulling strings out there.
I watched Edward Norton's Leaves of Grass a couple of days ago. He talked about God in the way mathematicians talk about parallel lines. In theory, two parallel lines will continue on infinitely without ever coming into contact with each other. This is something man could never see, or create himself. A true natural parallel will never exist, yet we base our numbers and our theories off the basis that it is there, and that it is perfectly possible.
Maybe it's because the sun didn't come out today, or maybe it's because I have a lot to do and no idea when I'll find the chance to do it because of my other obligations. Maybe that's why I feel religious today.
I've never given any body to my luck, it's just sort of been there. I could throw myself into traffic with all the confidence in the world, and I could fill my body with toxins and not expect the smallest set back. Maybe this is the invincible youth that I think I have. I'm walking a tightrope and hoping that I don't some day fall off. Do you brace yourself for those things? Do you consider the consequences to your actions? Or is it more your own selfish way of living that lets you just get by being content with your present state.
I try to give things up to people. My ear, or my shoulder, or my words. I figure that might be my way of giving back to God. I know this probably sounds really weird to all of you, that I'm suddenly spitting words about Christianity, but I take so much for granted. Some day, I'll be at the bottom of the barrel, no where to go but up, and the first place I'll turn is to those subconscious thoughts of an invisible savior. Maybe that's why I believe, because I see people who have nothing left crawling on their knees and asking for forgiveness. It's almost like, they believe in Him because there's nothing else left to believe in.
It gives me reason enough to throw up my own hands. I feel I've been blessed with something. Blessed with a lot of things. I'm a fatalist, and I'm a rationalist, and I'm a scientist, but I don't know why that has to stop me believing that there's some pinky finger of a God up there jostling fate in one direction or the other. When Rutherford shot an atom at a piece of gold foil, he observed alpha particles reflected on a photo luminescent sheet. Some of the alpha particles hit the sheet infront of the gold foil, light propelled backward. This was the experiment that gave birth to some of the radical multi-verse theories that exist today. There are infinite possibilities to each given decision, and each of those possibilities give birth to another parallel universe. How could something so incredible, so perfect have ever happened, if there wasn't something pulling strings out there.
I watched Edward Norton's Leaves of Grass a couple of days ago. He talked about God in the way mathematicians talk about parallel lines. In theory, two parallel lines will continue on infinitely without ever coming into contact with each other. This is something man could never see, or create himself. A true natural parallel will never exist, yet we base our numbers and our theories off the basis that it is there, and that it is perfectly possible.
Maybe it's because the sun didn't come out today, or maybe it's because I have a lot to do and no idea when I'll find the chance to do it because of my other obligations. Maybe that's why I feel religious today.
Monday, March 15, 2010
There are people in the world...
It's incredible the people you meet.
You have no idea how it'll happen, because most times charisma acts sporadically, and they just appear. It's those first few seconds, and the first few words out of your mouth that really snag them, and this is how you make friends. You can watch it happen, watch the silent approval in some one's eyes light up in that first phrase. Sure you could've seen them before, could've made a point of talking to them, but until that little glimmer, you're never could know.
These last couple of weeks, they've been full of light. The weathers been shit, and you've been rained on out right, but the people didn't change. In spite of the downpour it was warm inside, and word were still words and eyes were still eyes. It's incredible the people you meet. You're still not quite over that initial acceptance you get. It's not every day that you get a genuine feeling out of some on right off the get go. Sure you can be friends, but there are so few that'll reach out and let you in like you're fully prepared to do for them. It's always comforting to know.
They say alcohol's a catalyst for social interaction, and that's true, but when is it ever the name or the face that you keep. It's only the experience until you can look that person in the face and start to say "I know you". My dearest, most beloved friend K.G. told me about these people. The ones that you can let in. They're all around, and they're really sturdy when you first see them, not physically with big broad shoulders and a glaring smile, but where it counts. You know what I mean, they got that smile, they're just more emotionally sturdy. Almost inspires you to jump off you're over analytical rocking horse and stand on the ground with them. Almost.
You're leaving in a month and it's a lot of regret on your mind. How many faces you should've seen, how many things you should've done. In retrospect it's okay, you'll be back again someday five months from now. Five months and half a year, who knows who you'll know then. Your mind'll warp itself and you'll grind your teeth into the flat maw of a pacifist or turn them to fangs. Dig in. It's almost half a year, but it still comforts you know how much time you still have left before you get to get in there and find out the nitty gritty about some things. It's times like these where all those little niggling facts are like the paint brush to your paper. It's just canvas looking for change.
The music sounds good too, lately, it's pouring out of you and it's coming up with ease. Something about today was nice, because you threw your body at the board and then strummed the strings that made a chord. It was all passionate and it all rung out quite singingly. Tomorrow might be the same, the conversations'll keep coming, and you'll throw your body, and you'll sing a song again. Tomorrow might be much the same, but not quite today.
Goodnight, there are things to be done.
You have no idea how it'll happen, because most times charisma acts sporadically, and they just appear. It's those first few seconds, and the first few words out of your mouth that really snag them, and this is how you make friends. You can watch it happen, watch the silent approval in some one's eyes light up in that first phrase. Sure you could've seen them before, could've made a point of talking to them, but until that little glimmer, you're never could know.
These last couple of weeks, they've been full of light. The weathers been shit, and you've been rained on out right, but the people didn't change. In spite of the downpour it was warm inside, and word were still words and eyes were still eyes. It's incredible the people you meet. You're still not quite over that initial acceptance you get. It's not every day that you get a genuine feeling out of some on right off the get go. Sure you can be friends, but there are so few that'll reach out and let you in like you're fully prepared to do for them. It's always comforting to know.
They say alcohol's a catalyst for social interaction, and that's true, but when is it ever the name or the face that you keep. It's only the experience until you can look that person in the face and start to say "I know you". My dearest, most beloved friend K.G. told me about these people. The ones that you can let in. They're all around, and they're really sturdy when you first see them, not physically with big broad shoulders and a glaring smile, but where it counts. You know what I mean, they got that smile, they're just more emotionally sturdy. Almost inspires you to jump off you're over analytical rocking horse and stand on the ground with them. Almost.
You're leaving in a month and it's a lot of regret on your mind. How many faces you should've seen, how many things you should've done. In retrospect it's okay, you'll be back again someday five months from now. Five months and half a year, who knows who you'll know then. Your mind'll warp itself and you'll grind your teeth into the flat maw of a pacifist or turn them to fangs. Dig in. It's almost half a year, but it still comforts you know how much time you still have left before you get to get in there and find out the nitty gritty about some things. It's times like these where all those little niggling facts are like the paint brush to your paper. It's just canvas looking for change.
The music sounds good too, lately, it's pouring out of you and it's coming up with ease. Something about today was nice, because you threw your body at the board and then strummed the strings that made a chord. It was all passionate and it all rung out quite singingly. Tomorrow might be the same, the conversations'll keep coming, and you'll throw your body, and you'll sing a song again. Tomorrow might be much the same, but not quite today.
Goodnight, there are things to be done.
Monday, February 22, 2010
"Alright you primitive screwheads...
...Listen up, see this, THIS is my boomstick"
Alright, it's over, all of this drama is over. I'm done being a passivist, deleting myself from the internet, trying to hide from everything, that's not going to solve the problem. I'm owning up to all you small ignorant people. You have to take the time to sit there and make your sad boring lives interesting by sticking your nose into mine. Well bring it on.
Your dramatization of whats actually happened is getting on my nerves, and I want you to say all you have to say. At the end of the day I still know I'm fine as a person. I fucked up, fine, hit me for it, harass me for it, I won't hide, I won't back down, I'll stand and fight your depressing shit hole lives all I have to. I want you to give me all you've got, because you're never going to win. You've got this war to fight with me, so fight it, and fight it hard.
"You'll wait for me outside it a hole in the ground, well that's one way thinking you might get the upper hand"
Delete my facebook, delete my twitter, no, fuck that, and to every single one of you tired, useless people, fuck you too. I'm going to keep going like all of this isn't even happening after today. You're a tiny, insignificant part of this world, and there's no way that what you're doing right now is going to make you remembered. In the end, my piece will play a part of this and I'm not going to let you change that.
"I will come with arms."
Please, please, stick your nose out and let it meet my hand so I can make sure you stay out of my life. This is what I want to do, and this is who I am.
"At the end of the day, if you can look at yourself in the mirror and say 'I'm a good person' that's all you should need,"
God, I can't believe I could stoop to your level for even a second to consider running. Well I'm not running, please, PLEASE, try to hurt, so your words can fuel my anger, and push me over the this plateau, I will always come out on top because I understand what it takes in life to get to where I have to go. When you're laying on your death bed all you'll be able to remember of me was your futile attempt to try to make my life worse. I still have plenty of people who are my friends, and I still have plenty of people who would stick their neck out for me and fight the good fight. I've got my family too, and chances are they'll be fucking proud of what I'm about to say.
"Well they size my fit, for a puzzle I wish not to play part in."
Shall I go on? Shall I show you exactly what you are? Shall I throw the mirror to your face and show you the monster you're making yourself by trying to throw that mask on me? Keep them coming people, throw your venomous words at me and try to make me crumble. Never again. Never again will I let my passive mind over come me and let you step on my toes. This is my turn to throw my words at you. Form your militia, and bring your weapons of bullshit and blasphemy and try to knock me down.
I've accomplished so much in my life already, I've done so many things that none of you hate filled people will ever have the opportunity to do. I have the memories and the past success to push me to the pinnacle of a life that I should have.
That's all I have to say for now, I'll see you all on that social networking site facebook that you all see as your podium to try to ravage the lives of other people while you rot in your own self pity and fucking terrible lives.
Sincerely
-Jeff (The lying motherfucker) Cook
Alright, it's over, all of this drama is over. I'm done being a passivist, deleting myself from the internet, trying to hide from everything, that's not going to solve the problem. I'm owning up to all you small ignorant people. You have to take the time to sit there and make your sad boring lives interesting by sticking your nose into mine. Well bring it on.
Your dramatization of whats actually happened is getting on my nerves, and I want you to say all you have to say. At the end of the day I still know I'm fine as a person. I fucked up, fine, hit me for it, harass me for it, I won't hide, I won't back down, I'll stand and fight your depressing shit hole lives all I have to. I want you to give me all you've got, because you're never going to win. You've got this war to fight with me, so fight it, and fight it hard.
"You'll wait for me outside it a hole in the ground, well that's one way thinking you might get the upper hand"
Delete my facebook, delete my twitter, no, fuck that, and to every single one of you tired, useless people, fuck you too. I'm going to keep going like all of this isn't even happening after today. You're a tiny, insignificant part of this world, and there's no way that what you're doing right now is going to make you remembered. In the end, my piece will play a part of this and I'm not going to let you change that.
"I will come with arms."
Please, please, stick your nose out and let it meet my hand so I can make sure you stay out of my life. This is what I want to do, and this is who I am.
"At the end of the day, if you can look at yourself in the mirror and say 'I'm a good person' that's all you should need,"
God, I can't believe I could stoop to your level for even a second to consider running. Well I'm not running, please, PLEASE, try to hurt, so your words can fuel my anger, and push me over the this plateau, I will always come out on top because I understand what it takes in life to get to where I have to go. When you're laying on your death bed all you'll be able to remember of me was your futile attempt to try to make my life worse. I still have plenty of people who are my friends, and I still have plenty of people who would stick their neck out for me and fight the good fight. I've got my family too, and chances are they'll be fucking proud of what I'm about to say.
"Well they size my fit, for a puzzle I wish not to play part in."
Shall I go on? Shall I show you exactly what you are? Shall I throw the mirror to your face and show you the monster you're making yourself by trying to throw that mask on me? Keep them coming people, throw your venomous words at me and try to make me crumble. Never again. Never again will I let my passive mind over come me and let you step on my toes. This is my turn to throw my words at you. Form your militia, and bring your weapons of bullshit and blasphemy and try to knock me down.
I've accomplished so much in my life already, I've done so many things that none of you hate filled people will ever have the opportunity to do. I have the memories and the past success to push me to the pinnacle of a life that I should have.
That's all I have to say for now, I'll see you all on that social networking site facebook that you all see as your podium to try to ravage the lives of other people while you rot in your own self pity and fucking terrible lives.
Sincerely
-Jeff (The lying motherfucker) Cook
Sunday, February 21, 2010
One Day
Well, I'm gonna leave this up for a day to let every one know I'm deleting my blog too. Also, to everyone who hid behind the anon. label, it's quite alright, I know how brave the internet can make everyone. To anyone who actually enjoys reading anything I write, it's been fun, and thank you, but I guess this is what I have to do.
latah
latah
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Dear god
"Wake up, wake the sun"
I guess this is going to be kind of a trial thing. I considered completely removing myself from the internet, and losing every public part of my life, because it just shows more gaps in my ribs for a knife to slip into. I honestly don't know why I have any problem with being harassed though. I've been harassed before, behind my back and personally, and I feel like I don't even have to brace myself for it this time. I know who I am, and I know what kind of person I am. Sticks and stones ladies and gentlemen.
I'm waiting for the idle physical threats. I want some one to threaten to beat the shit out of me. I want the cowardice to come down that. I want the mobs to flock around me and beat me senseless so I can actually feel how much hate they have for me. It'll feel wonderful. Bludgeoned and black, bleeding and bruised, I'll feel some kind of hatred just pulsing through me. Oh god how I crave that adrenaline. It won't happen though, and I can laugh to myself knowing it won't happen.
"The morning tilts, over the hills, and floods the world"
I think I'm going to wake up tomorrow, and still feel fine about myself. I think I'm going to wake up the day after that and care even less about what anyone from my home town thinks of me. I'm almost positive a lot of people really don't like me around there anymore. That's alright, I've got family, and like momma always said, they're the most important people in my life.
Blah blah blah I dread going back to that city now. It's not like I'll run from my problems, like I said, I don't mind the harassment. If all the friends I had in high school hate me now, which I'm assuming the majority of them do, I guess I'll have to look the other way. It doesn't hurt me that bad, if they don't want me around, I guess I'm not welcome around.
I guess this is going to be kind of a trial thing. I considered completely removing myself from the internet, and losing every public part of my life, because it just shows more gaps in my ribs for a knife to slip into. I honestly don't know why I have any problem with being harassed though. I've been harassed before, behind my back and personally, and I feel like I don't even have to brace myself for it this time. I know who I am, and I know what kind of person I am. Sticks and stones ladies and gentlemen.
I'm waiting for the idle physical threats. I want some one to threaten to beat the shit out of me. I want the cowardice to come down that. I want the mobs to flock around me and beat me senseless so I can actually feel how much hate they have for me. It'll feel wonderful. Bludgeoned and black, bleeding and bruised, I'll feel some kind of hatred just pulsing through me. Oh god how I crave that adrenaline. It won't happen though, and I can laugh to myself knowing it won't happen.
"The morning tilts, over the hills, and floods the world"
I think I'm going to wake up tomorrow, and still feel fine about myself. I think I'm going to wake up the day after that and care even less about what anyone from my home town thinks of me. I'm almost positive a lot of people really don't like me around there anymore. That's alright, I've got family, and like momma always said, they're the most important people in my life.
Blah blah blah I dread going back to that city now. It's not like I'll run from my problems, like I said, I don't mind the harassment. If all the friends I had in high school hate me now, which I'm assuming the majority of them do, I guess I'll have to look the other way. It doesn't hurt me that bad, if they don't want me around, I guess I'm not welcome around.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
