Children of Conte

So here I am agian, at the end of my rope and at the end of my leisure. I have been self-blined from the needs of reality and subsistence. I have dived in to the mists and visions I create for self-placation only to find that I have gained no truth nor noteworthy experience. I have not come out ahead in any streach of the imagination. I must reimerge from these friged waters only to find that I am drowning with little hope in sight. This is my doing from not from undoing but lack of effort that could easily have been. Why do I not learn from my mistakes, what drives away my hopes and dreams? Is the thread I hang upon is so tenuous and my will so fickle that at sign of first fault I retreat? I know I can not run for ever and I do not wish to. I have seen what lethargy does firsthand and I do not like it.

My father always said, "pick your friends with great care," or something of the sorts. "For you shall adapt to their customs as they yours." And istn't it true? Do not smokers, elitists, slakers and nerds bond with their own? Do they not share practices, beliefs and habits? Frightening as my father's advice is, "always pick a group that will lift you up, rather then drag you down," he is correct and I have been aware of this for sometime. Even though days, months, and years go by this doesn't seem to sink in. "The real world doesn't care if you are a writer, basket-weaver or even a poet. You won't be able to support your self off of bullshit, let alone a family!"

A family, this thought creeps into my head when I am not worring about finances or have my head shoved up my ass. (please forgive the language if offended) How am I to support a family with lack of regaurd? I don't know. I know it is a bit soon to feel such a threat and that a family would inevitably come far down the road. But I tell myself, (and my father to his great annoyence) that I will not have one. You see I justify my laziness by omitting things from my life before I could ever truely have them.

Again I am running, trying to maintain my current disfunction. Pacifying my existance without ever changing. Though we cannot never change. (yes a double negative, I went there!) We are always in motion and I just wish I could understand that. The scary thing is, from time to time I do. There are times when I remember the truth. And the truth can be a scary thing indeed. There are times when I even feel congnizant, though few, and want to make amends. However I only do this when I recieve a jolt from the real world, a friend or family member's nagging, or if I am paniced, as I am now. I usualy try to make written record of my revalations, hopeing that I can make some progress towards normalcy. Yet it never seems to happen.

I always return to my previous state. I was warn of suspention, suspended, almost died of dehydration, verbaly beat by my parents, actually beat by my parents, threatend, yelled at by my family and friends, encuraged by my family and friends. I have been given more chances than anyone deserves and I have let everyone down time and time agian. I don't know why, or maybe I do but wont admit it. Maybe I know what has been keeping me imprisoned with in myself. Listen to me, ramble on, like I am some sort of victum made incapable of change. I'm not, or at least I shouldn't be. I am just another white suburbanite complaining about how tough I've had it. I might as well say, "I'm hard man, I'm from the streets!' It would sound just as assinine.

I keep thinking that maybe there is no easy change. Maybe nobody really knows what the hell to do or why the hell to do it. They only know what their told and what they need to do to servive. "I can't make you care." That is a favorite expression of my father's and he's right, he can't. I don't know why I don't have a selfprecerving bone in my body or why I don't try. Is it because I feel I will fail anyway? No, I think it might be the struggle. The daily struggle that most folks seem to understand all to well. "Well I guess sense I didn't do that one thing, so I will put this other stuff off until I get it done." I never finish that first damn thing and have a whole back list of shit that I didn't get done. I put one thing off and then the next, bury myself and for what? Just one more minute of happiness before I return to reality. Before long reality slaps me in the face and I am back to square one.

They tell me I will learn my lesson when I have to, when I am out of options and it is too late. But I don't want to learn then, I want to learn now. I need to learn now, I need to know what to do. And I konw we all have these concerns, we all have things in our lifes that suck. We all have financial problems, and everbody deals with the same shit. Yet they get through it, they know the importance of getting through it. They may think it sucks and there is no way out but they bucle down and do what needs to get done.

Maybe because I grew up in a household without want I didn't learn that leason. I know for a fact there are millions if not billions of Americans who are in my pasition. Otherwise they wouldn't have "Solve debt problems now," and "get your high school diploma or degree just three days a week!" It's sickening that I might end up like that, that I did end up like that. I don't want to be in the position, but I am and worse if I don't get my act together. So what is stoping me?

Well its like quiting smoking. It didn't work in the past so why try now? What do I have this time around to motivate me? How do I know I will sucseed now where I have failed so many times before?

Also the problem is I am a lier, a bullshiter. I can make up excuses, yarns, and exaggerations like nobody's business. I tell people yeah, everything is fine, I'm doing just fine, everything is going so well, I might be doing worse then I like, but I'm getting it done. God I hate it. I hate lying. I don't recall person I have ever been completly truthful to, not one. It has alays been half-truth or an out right lie and I am fucking tierd of it. It never ends see, never. And even if you tell the truth later you still lied, so its still ok to lie as long as you mean well, but that is how you got into the problem in the first place. Damn!

It is so exausting to have a face all the time, a part of yourself you can not share. I think I know how those folks that are in the closet feel. Traped in a weave that they can't get out of, afraid of what people will do when they find out. But unlike them I am actually in the wrong. Its not like deciving people your whole life is just socialy unacceptable and can be solved by moving further north. No, its wrong, and I know it wrong. Not because the bible or ever major reliegion the world over says it is, but because of the values that my parents have intrusted in me. Like the values your parents have intrust in you. Like be resposible with your money, don't drink in excess, make sound decisions and always use a cupon. Things that we pass on and pass of as the wisdom of age. That anyone of a certain age should know these set things. They reinforce them everywhere in the public and private sphere. Yet there are people that can not, for the life of them, grasp the concept that is slapping them in the face.

Why? Is this a natural thing that all people go through or am I part of some week willed colective that has consumed to much florinated water and feel I have no choice but to act against it? Is it angsiaty (I give up on that one), appathy, a combination. Can I cure it, can I take a pill or a drug to be normal? Is there an over-the-counter off brand that will make me care again? I did once and I don't know how to get it back. I just want solvancy. I want to want, but I try and I give up. I put things off and I piss me off to no end. I don't know even where to start from now or even know why I would bother. I would just fail again right, all things being the same as before, notihing will stick..

I do have one thing though, work, I love to work. I love to go to a job, clock in and work for eight hours strait. Why, because I am doing something usesful with my time and am almost normal. When I have a job I show up, work is black and white to me. But everything else is fucking grey!

How do I make the grey things black and white?

There is a archetype of movie or story that I really like. The College story. There is a young freshman (I'm not beening sexist, the protaganist is always a dood) and a senior or super-senior what have you. The frosh or pre-frosh is always to 'uptight' and the senior is to relaxed. But by the end of the story both learn from eachother. The frosh gains confidence in himself, and the senior regains initative. They make it look so easy.

But in the end where did this get me, no where. No one is going to read this and even if they do it will be a short skim and a comment about how poorly spelled and written it was. Yes, it is long, yes I am sorry, no I don't expect to have any readers after this and no, I don't know why I just ditched this train of thought. Probably because I thought I could remember it, or have people remember it for me. See I have a bad memory, but I wont get into that.

I just wanted to have a happy Christmas and show my family and friend that I gave a shit, oh well.

Sweet Romance

I found this through flashplayer believe it or not. just thought you all should check it out.
http://www.flashplayer.com/music/theresheis2.html

Creation, Discretion, Error

I am doing my best to check my spelling with a dictionary now. I don't know if it will help much, it is not as effective as Angel over my sholder but I will take what I can get. In reference to my last post I believe I might have been a bit unclear and long-winded. (I do tend to do that.) However, in order to make amends I have the following quick read.

Bush is an idiot (Intrinsicly) Art, creativity, following your feel all wonderful things. Trying to inhance or duplicate these wonderful things, also wonderful. Wine, piss, writers angst. Fred don't sue me please?

That was about it, though it was much more elaborate and eloquent. If you want the full version you will just have to take the time to read it. The truth is that I got a few hits on my blog as of late, and I am excited. I recently started to bounce around, checking out random bloggs and it has paid off to say the least. Let me say first that I am truly glad that anyone will read this at all. Second, never feel concerned about what you write down as a comment. More offten then more a mate of mine will come on a with a jab of no small amount. Lastly, I don't make sense to everyone, I only make sense to most people some of the time and some people most of the time. I don't always make sense, even to me, one of my short commings that has probably prevented me from being an author. That and my spelling, grammer, punctuation, and lack of good effort. Anyway, my point is welcome. Write, comment, corect, if you don't...who will?

Fan Art

Well, for starters it looks like I wont be getting back to the story any time soon. I am sorry to those who bothered to read the filth. I'm planing to talk about art but I do want to digress and say sorry to twag. Who, for those of you who read the comment on my previous post, was in a right state of anger with me over an evening drinking. Though thankfully he has forgiven me and the frat dood who caused him to spill over with drama has sence appologized. I will not go into details about that evening, I will say that Angel has revoked my bar visits and I am a little sad about this :(

Now, as far as the art is concerned, I am impressed. I often find my computer acting up, and know it is need for a good wipe. This is because I constently google images of fan art. I try to look at the artist at least, or write the name down at least. Thereby showing some repect for the person or persons responible for these drawings. Some of them are crap and some are really good. Some of them are done by kids who have great potential and others are drawn by perverted men who get kicks by drawing chics in chain mail. Even though you put a pair of pointy ears on here she still nude! Some of the perportions are quite acurate and some are obviously from a limited data base. *ohh, burn* But I still admire the effort. It floors me everytime I do a search and find something new and amazing. I think I know a few folks who do it too, but I have no idea what thier handles are. The talent blows me away, and some are far from perfect, but drawn by 14 year old kids, come on that's cool!

My point is that there is talent, insperation, art all around, and we turn a blinde eye to it, because its not professional. Yeah, I would get cheesed off if someone took my word out of context and clamed them as thier own. However, I think my writting style (shifting and full of errors) leaves clues to who I am and what I beleive. I only hope that Someone can take a look at what I have written and say, gee that neet, I want to draw to that, or play to that or even, "I can write that better, this idiot did it all wrong." Truth be told consistency has never been one of my strong points, or humor for that matter sorry folks, but I do yurn to do a little insperation. Call it greed of glamor or what you will (he he, shakespeare joke) but insperation has always been my driving goal.

It is said you can tell when a person is talking to you, and when that same person is talking to hear thier own voice, the same can be true about writing. Most folks just want to be published to get their thoughts and believes out there, to hell weither people want to hear them or not. I suppose that is the benifit of the blog, but that's not my point. I want to write in such a way that it moves folks, that they can see what I am describing, feel the emotion. I don't want to get bogged in detail. Sometimes too much detail is too much detail after all, kinda akin to something Froyd said once, "Damn it, Grubbs. Use a spell checker for Christsake. And have transition, gezz your worse then my students and that's saying something!" Though truth be told Master Froyd would never speak ill of his students and I feel that criticism is his way of encuraging proper writing technieques.

So the question is this, what do I plan to write. I have a few idea's that are running through my head, each worse then the last and each more difficult to express. Though I would really like to find an artist and do a bit of scripting for a comic or some such thing it is a futile hope. If stories are about people scripts are doubly so. They only consits of people and while your field is a little more limited as an auther the artist can do so much more. After all a picture is worth a thousand letters or something like that. Its like something I was reading in Megatokyo(work of fred gallagher) "The human face has its own, subtle language for communicating emotion, and its a language we all understand. we are all very sensitive to it. People will notice even the most subtle changes in a person's face, even is that person is a drawing..." (Megatokyo.com, #0779) [I hope that is enough for Fred not to sue me :]

But I should wrap this up soon. My point is there are a lot of talinted people and I just wish I went to greater lengths to find them. Perhaps one day when I am not so nieve and I have a little more abiliy I can meet these fine folks. Until such time please do not get upset if you see your drawing or scetch duplicated. Consider it isperation, I know I have written to tons of pics I have found on the net, nothing durty of course. And even though you don't get reconized now or you havn't sold your art for millions of dollars to upscail NewYorkers, know this. There should be respect in the artist comunity, encuragement and even a little mixing :D So go out and do what you do, crazy art folk and I will be admiring your work, your effort, your contrabution, your donation of insparation. Keep at it, and enjoy the ride.