Out There

Who the Hell is Kattie

2008-07-01T01:12:00.001-07:00

So there is this woman that's been tending my green patch as of late, joy-facebook I know. Anyway, she's been tending my garden and sending me plants and writing on my wall and I just want to know who the hell is she? How does she know me or how do I know her? What did I do to attract people to my *shining* personality? It's all very confusing and full of fluff. I'm not complaining, I like people. Heck there are a few I even love. But, that aside, how on earth can I repay those that care. I suppose by caring back. That seems to be the only way, though I growl in contemplation as I enjoy apathy very, very much. Even by putting some effort into my life I can show those folks that I think they are important and that I appreciate what they say and so. So K, love, good luck with this Jerry person and be happy. May the God you believe in bless you and all you do.

And everybody else thanks.

Ha!

2008-02-13T06:51:00.000-08:00

And here you thought you would never, ever see me again. Well, I am back and better than ever. Well, maybe not better in the cleanliness area, or the grooming situation and true I haven't written the stories I wish I had; but I am here. For those of you who don't know I have broken up with said Gf of last post. We had been dating for about a year and a half. "What went wrong," you may ask and I shall tell you. Commitment doesn't seem to be my strong suit. So this Christmas instead of giving her a ring like she wanted I get her the boot instead. Not the real boot, the proverbial boot, but she took it bad and left. I am now a free man, a free man who is faced with an extra $200 rent check each month. So if anyone knows anyone out there, ha ha ha, that is looking for a place to be, please, please God, please send them to me.

I know, I know, I am not responsible for here portion, she did sign the lease, she is responsible for her portion of the rent. Well, like daddy Grubbs used to always say, "Damit Matthew!" Though I think it would have been better if he had said you can't squeeze watter out of a stone. Because that would be a little more appropriate. Yet, I must leave
take care all

iteresting

2007-05-09T04:39:00.000-07:00

right, so this is a bit upsetting. I found the reason why I was unable to gain access. It trainspires in the hostale take-over of all things by the corperate big wigs; they found it just (in their infinate wisdom) to demand from me more work! Like we all don't have enough of that. It's preposterous, create a new mail acount. I can hardly remember all my passwords as it is. I do update so very infrequently, but no more. They, (the proverbial they), have infused me with enough displeasure that I feel it is my dubty to rant. But enough of this. It's seven in the morning and I can't spell. So I am going to bed, but I will warn those out there to expect me on the horizan. (hopefully in more blogs than one.) Just to let you all know, I have a few stories that I am working on, and have been for some time. Though there are only 2 that have been in the long run, the rest have been scrapt at this point in time and I hope to expound on a few that I have been working on; spicificly: The King of Serpents, and How the Eagle Lost His Crown. They are to be a part of my new summer initative which includes the following.
3-5: short children type pieces
1-2: works of extended fiction (haveing mutiple sections, but still not a novel)
1: novel type thing, though only 100 pages expected
5-10: short stories of no more than three pages

I havn't had a lot of time these past few mounths, haveing a GF saps a lot of time (amoung other things) but no more. I endevor to step away from my comuter, and focus on the inner muse rather than the static reality of video games. And while I may not complete the subsantial list of works that I have clammed I will write; I do know this. That progress can never come from still hands. But I can't see anymore, I say good by.

The Chronicles of Jack: The beginning

2006-10-24T05:58:00.000-07:00

The other side on the shadows.

There is no question to what we are. We are timeless, we are forever, we are damned. I don't know how we became this way and I don't know if there is a cure. Is there a cure for a soul so black? No, we are here; surviving and thriving on your scraps. What you toss casually away becomes our treasure, our life line. A discarded news paper tells us when we need to lay low. A dejected wino becomes an easy meal. And when the night folds in on you, when you feel like there is nothing left to life for. We are there to pick up the pieces and continue on for you. Long before your flesh ever grows cold. Is there an escape, maybe. Maybe hell will take us, maybe this existence is hell. We are uncertain. But given the choice between hell on earth and the pits of endless torment we chose to remain here. Besides, if we left, who would be there to hear you scream?

Jack panted and sputtered as blood gurgled from his mouth. He ran grasping his side where a metal pike had been driven into it moments before. Escape was the only thought that crossed his mind. Escape from that thing. He stopped to catch his breath and felt his life ebb from with in him. One more street, one more door. He could hide, could he hide? Questions spun through his head like a shaking cup on a saucer. The lights ahead began to dim and the alley way beneath him began to warp. No, he had to keep his head clear, he had to run. No time for questions, just run, "RUN!" He shouted and dashed, looking for a door, but the whole world began to wobble and spin. Poor jack didn't have time to go through all five fazes of death. He only had time for acceptance before the alley around him began to warp and the world itself faded away.

Another body lay sprawled across the ground and the beast moved on. Sniffing the air as it did so. It was searching for fresh meat, fresh blood and it found what it was looking for. The ground is littered with bodies now, and the city begins to shrink. It looks diminutive, like an ant hill and the screams become distant, like voices on the wind. Lights flicker, and guns discharge but that is below the clouds now. Not even when the beast found the orphanage could Jack's attention be drawn back. He could only look up at the light that was calling him home.

A New and Exciting Adventure

2006-10-17T02:28:00.000-07:00

Well I figure it's about time, about time again for me to write. I have been lax for too long and need to rediscover my muse. I am hoping to have a new installment every Tuesday and Thursday by about 6:00 am. Whether it be flash fiction or an on-going story I hope to have something up. Maybe, just maybe it might spurn someone to read it and critique it. I don't really have anything ready Today however, so I shall present a short paragraph for a story I am working on. Enjoy.

A soft rain was falling on the Burnt remnits of another nameless village. It had an elder who lead in political matters, a lord who represented it in matters of the crown and a priest who reassured the masses that Morrow was watching over them. It was a bustling village full of life, commerce and the laughter of children. It would have been a fine place to raise a family, until I burnt it to the ground. No, that's not fair to say. I wasn't the only who had a hand in the destruction, but I did play my part and was sickened by it. MY stomach tightened in knots and my vision blurred. It could have been the hunger in my belly or the rain in my eyes, but I know that wasn't. My hands were shaking, clasping and releasing, almost nervously. It was the blood on them. There's an old expression that my father used to say, "No man can live in peace as long as there is another man willing to take orders." He's probably shaking in his cell, that is, if he is still alive. But that's another story entirely.

Unhappy Noise

2006-10-10T04:00:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered why real life has to encroch upon escapism? I have, and I have come to the conclusion that it sucks. Not life, or escapism but just the combination of the two. "Forever spererate, replacing each other as the mood deams." I just want to read, to write, to build a world for people to enter and experience. However, other thoughts occupy my mind. They pull at me, waking and sleep. Finances, grades, relationship concerns. They burden me, and I know I am not alone in this. I know that everyone faces the worries. Like right now, I just want to run up to Charles De Lint and give him a big hug. It might just be the lack of sleep talking, or typing rather, but I just finished "Our Lady of the Harbour," and I feel that its one of the best I have read. A little disapointing, but not at all cliche. I do not fault him because the story did not go the way I wanted it to. Rather I comend him, because I have a way I think the story should go, but I understand why he did it the way he did. I get why it works, the underlining mood, maybe not meaning, but certainly metephore. And I am sitting here all Jazzed, thinking about my transition issues and what I could do better for my own stories. And what does reality do? It glarbs at me, and weighs me down again. I hate it, you know, I hate having to be so serious, knowing that I am not serious enough and that even if I exert more effort it still wont be enough. I just want to follow the Muse, but benality has me so tightly that it invades my dreams! worry, regret, concern. I even sit around thinking about what I would change if I could, how I could make it better. But I don't really know if I could do it, probably just falter. And that's the really anoying thing, that I feel just so darn depressed about it all. I know I shouldn't. I know I have a lot to be thankful for. Probably even enough to think about haveing some sort of faith. I also know these problems will never go away. They will always come in some form or another and if I am not ready for them; if I give up latter like I have given up before, I know they will destroy me. Destroy what I have now, what I will have later. When it all will mater. When I have somthing worth fighting for. Granted, having someone to share the night with brings the future into prespective. The only real problem there is, I see the man I want to be latter, but know I am not him now. And the real scary part is, I don't know if I can become that man. I don't know if I will ever care enough, to really feel and fight for it all. I'm not saying I'm messed up, there are a lot of folks who feel like that from time to time. It happens. But its just irksome when such worries and self examinations envelope the mystical places we hang our hats when we want to get away from it all. When words in a book form commitment, and when classes on theology are held in one's mind. Then, my fellows, it is time to be concerned. Any who, I better get to bed. May the Muse Guide You.
-this post has been spell checked for your convenience-

Art, The Fight for Originality

2006-08-30T17:34:00.000-07:00

It has come to my attention that people are complaining more than usual. What about you may ask? Why, art of course. Be it poetry, drawings or my nemesis writing. They say everything has been done, that nothing is original any more. I guess I can agree, however there is a way of looking at the glass half full. The problem is that there are so many of us that want to get our work out there, that want to make an impression on the world for whatever reason. I am not saying that any artist is miss-guided or conceded. We are just motivated to prove ourselves and our usefulness to the world (or maybe just to our parents). However this drive has come at a cost, we have become afraid. We are afraid of somebody steeling our work, of not getting the right message out, afraid of failing short. So what dastardly effect does this have? Seclusion. Let's face it the concept of the secluded artist is a bit of a cliche. But that doesn't make it any less true. We draw from ourselves and try to ignore outside stimulus. Though no matter how fresh and new a piece looks it can always be compared, sometimes rather closely, to a previous work. And this is were our problem lies. In perception. There used to be a time when artists fed-off each other. Were a story spawned a picture, a picture a song, a song a legend and a legend a story again. It's this cyclical pattern that we have been avoiding that may bring a rebirth to art as we know it. Who knows, this very comment may have been made a hundred times before and a hundred times again. However, it is necessary now, and probably will be again. I don't claim to be a wise man, just a man. Yet, if my experience has taught me anything it is that we need to band together. Art has become too commercialized, too over produced. Though the heart goes in, the soul is not there. I can only hope that we can move past this and back to the community of rejects that we started out as. Be bold, be daring, be yourself and look to other works for inspiration. If they find your work to be plagiarism rather than a honor than they do not understand what it is to be an artist. Life does not imitate art, art is begot from the muse which is the filter we see the light of life through. Only by agnoliging the muse and therefore the world and all of its stimuli can we have a true appreciation for our own art and works of others. So take in all the world has to offer and give back to the chorus that is the song of humanity.

yep

2006-08-14T23:41:00.000-07:00

yep, so I am drunk again, drunk and misspelling. But then again, when am I not misspelling? I don't have much to say, that is I can't say much as this is taking far too long to be comforting. But, I would like to say hay to all and well, do your best.

Yeay, Trip

2006-07-19T23:01:00.000-07:00

I am very pleased to inform one and all that I will be returning to Bemidji later today, thursday and not leaving until sunday morning. However, I have come across a problem. I don't have any keys to get into my house :( So I hope to make contact with someone at the house before I can enter. Though I don't foresee any problems on that part. And if it just so happens that I can't enter I am sure there is some other place that will take me in. (Like the chinese Buffet, yum!) I havn't made to many solid plans and I like it that way. I was thinking I could game on friday and drink on saterday at the keg, as I said I would on my pirate notice. I was hoping (and froyd help me with this) that the Union Station would be back in business and they had those $1 beers that I like so much and get me far more plastered than I have any right to be. Anyway, I will hopefully see you all later on, yes even Jeramiah, out and about. I have some debts to pay anyway. take care all. And may the wind always be at ye' backs and yer sails never falter.

Queer Stories

2006-06-26T00:45:00.000-07:00

So apparently conservative parents don't like it when you bring up past stories about their children and know gays. Even though these parents have broken bread with these "queer folk." The story starts like this: I was at a grad party for a young man by the name of Greg W. (friend of my brother.) We (the friend's mother, her sister and my self) had just gotten done scaring the bejesus of her seventeen year old daughter. There is a story of a "haunted church" on Sweedish road and the daughter, Julia and her two cosins Page (12) and Page's older sister (16) had gone to drive by and check it out. They left, with the reluctant agreement of their mothers, with a young man by the name of John (18) who was a friend of the aformentioned brother (Greg). The two mothers get the notion to drive in search of said church and plot with John. Long story short we drive past in a minni-van flashing the lights and wailing like fools at John's stop car. We had just returned back to the house of the party when the children came home. Ha ha all in good fun. We begin to talk of this and that and I look up to the sky and laugh. You know the laugh, the one that sends shivers down Han's spine and tends to attract a lot of atenchen. I had just recaled a time when Brad (Greg's older brother 20) shared a bed with a, now, gay individual. I thought it was funny, but as I told my story the mother grew increasingly more uncomfortable and actually said, "Matt, I think it's time for you to go home." I don't know if she was trying to be funny, but I believe she might have been serious, because her seventeen year old daughter was sitting around the fire with us. I hastenly tried to change the subject and comented to the daughter that she should come up to Bemidji some time in the fall to check the school and the pretty fall colors. Telling stories is one thing, actually sudjesting to a seventeen year old that she should come up to Bemidji when we were just speaking of homosexuals is a bit much for a conservative mother, or probably any mother for that matter. The daughter kept say "ew," and "I don't know how they can do that. Which is good and probably the reason I didn't get thrown out on my ear. I don't think I will be invited back over any time soon. Which is a real shame (because I for got to inquire about a rather atractive high school friend and as to which she was married or seeing anyone as of late.) However, as I walked to my car and was smoke the last embers of my pipe I began to wonder how on Earth cold anyone be so afraid of gay individuals or the idea of being homosexual. I mean sure I guess it is a real fear of partents, but there are far worse things out there. I mean hell, my own father would rather I drink and engage in sexual permiscuaty then to go out and game. I think he would actually prefere it if I called my self gay rather then a writter. But it's too late for that. I would never admit to being a writter (because I lack talent and think there are far better folks out there qualified to be that.) And I don't think I could bring myself to dip in that pool, not even for Froyd. While he does have a nice pair of nockers I don't think that the penis thing could ever do it for me. But, that doesn't mean I veiw homosexuality as something gross or perverted. Just something that's not for me. And I can't see why anyone could transpose thier own values and beliefs on others and demand that hedrosexual relationships are the only ones to be had. I have seen many homosexual relationships that are more pleasent for both parties invalved then hedrosexual relationships. Granted any type of relationship can go south (figurtivly speaking) no matter the oriantation. But, I don't see why that scares parents. Help me out here parents or potential parents. What views do you have on this and why?

A New Hope

2006-06-18T22:23:00.000-07:00

Forgive me for most of my HTML is shot. I can't remember even how to hyper link. (or spell for that matter) Anyway, I wanted to post to let everyone know that I am heathly and hanging at my folk's place for the summer. Though I am sure most everyone knows that. Now the new bit of information goes as follows. I am going to try to get back in town (Bemidji) on the 21st or the 22nd of July. This will mean that I have to request off a month in advance, hence why it is so late. Now, I havn't acctualy requested the time off yet because I don't know if anyone will be there or if there is anything going on. I would like to get some gaming in, seeing as I havn't done it in quite a while. Though, hanging out with various people, especially Froyd, would make my day as well. I will be makeing various phone calls and checking blogs when I have the time. Though I might reach a lot of resistance do to my parents modum, that's right 56k baby!!

As far as new for me, I went out and bought a new pipe, and got accosted in various strange way while working at the gas station... Long, scary story. But other than that, I have no new gaming groups, no new girl friend and no big party stories. Yep, its been pretty bland. Anywho... I will try to talk to you all leter. Take care
-ME

A Plan

2006-02-24T12:37:00.000-08:00

Well it's been a while again. But this time I can say it was for slightly lagitamit reasons. But first I must explain my spelling which I believe is quite a bit worse then ever. I have just gotten my comp up and running again, so I figgure it would be a good idea to update my pirate blog well, the spelling style lingered. anyway, I was downloading some unsafe files, my comp cought a hanus virus and I had to reboot. Such is life though. NO, my plan, I have a plan t'where explain my absense in my pirate blog anyway, as being ubduckted, but I will need some help. I have begun the story, but I need folks to leave comments by and by, as if they where actual bar cliantel asking some drunk about a story he was recanting. It would be a lot sw33ter if you all did it in some sort of character, or characterized text, excluding froyd of course, he being the biggest character of them all. But no, leave a comment, and I will do what I can to post as offten as I can. If I can I would like to keep this story going until the end of the semester. So help me out I employ you. Talk care.

Little Options, Low Selfesteem

2006-01-28T01:01:00.000-08:00

So I got back from gaming, a pretty disheartening experience, to find my house in disoray and disaster once again. Now matter what fantasy world I submerce myself in I always end up surfacing in the fruit of my appathy. I appear wet and rasping for breath, as the cold air rushes to my lungs. Half freezing them, half reviving them, but never satisfying them. No, my tar blackend lungs cry out with shame at the site of my own filth, my trail laziness. Hmm, I guess this is what they call a cycle but it doesn't feel like a circle at all. It feels like a dead end, I am cornered by my own inactions and my inactions yet to come. I am too familiar with my paterns to deny what I am. I am a slacker. But I don't want to be one. I know I have work to do, and every second that I don't do it; the pile gets bigger and bigger. What's stoping me then? Sad thoughts from a happy sorce. Is self-examination and awarness a state of freedom, or just the recognization of the trap we creat? Yeah, I am so up lifting, and hears why.

On of my favorite movies was on tv when I got home, The New Guy, its a tale about a geek (or as the movie calls them a blip) who is fed up with being picked on. He gets himself expelled from his old school, goes to a prison to get training on "Going from bitch to bull", and finaly finds exceptance as a tough guy in his new school. But this doesn't sit well with the concious of our hero...he has become one of those who used to make his life hell. When he became the bull he couldn't control the bully, wow that's a streach. Any way, damn fine movie, lot of big name people in it, big name songs, and big titties. Lots of focus on the lead actress in a hankerchief for a t-shirt(nice). Now I ain't saying that sexual appeal doesn't have a place, hell the movie sold out in everyother concivable way. A teenager movie to beat them all. Though the question is, why the hell do I like it?

I like it becasue I don't have to think. Its repetes every highschool movie ever made, be an individual, stand up for the little guy, stand up to the bully, you will be excepted if you be yourself. Nice, a real feel good movie. This may surprise you but I was a really big geek in high school, and I even woried about what others thought of me. (I could go further, but I think my angsty writer muse may be drying up.) So these types of movies are refreshing...while there is still the movie. The problem with late night movies is they are on late at night, this means pleanty of comercials. And they are all soo chearful. Advertisments for acne creams, electric chairs, exercise machines with perfectly toned people flexing, diet supplmets with folks swearing up and down that this was the only product that worked for them. I am so thankful I have a full head of hair otherwise those 'hair restoration clinic' comecials would really get to me. And just when it is too much to bare and your about to must from a throbing head ache do to depresion, self judgment, and eye strain they have advertisments for pain relievers, thanks for rubbing it in...jerks!

So the original reason to watch the movie is now the one thing sustaining me. I want to be happy, I want the movie to make me feel happy and it will in between comercial breaks. So I patiently wait, feeling more depressed by the thirty second block designed to tell me how I am inadiquit and how I can fix myself, just to get to the movie so I feel better. One must have the grey clouds to appreciate the ray of golden light. Oh wait there was a comecrial on flood insurence too, chock up another to disheartend thoughts. So I feel worse then ever, though a bit better because I had to finish the movie, to keep going on I had to finish the movie. And now I look forward to a weekend of homework, housework and solitude. I know there are tons of people that will hang with me, and I appreciate that, but it still feels empty and I don't know why. It's like wining a game after cheating, it's a shallow victory full of regreat and what-if's. You never know if you where good enough, there are things that hint you were, but then there are things that hint you wern't. You feel ashamed because you did not go that extra step that extra mile to let them know where you where comming from or how you felt. There is an excitment in your heart and it beats faster when you think of it, but its only a thought. Only a thought and nothing more.

You must return to your life, your rutine that isn't complete. Stick with what you know and who you know, because you can't remember anything else, you refuse to remember anybody else. There are so many opptions, but you just don't know which ones to take. So you have friends, they watch your back and even tell you what to do from time-to-time. "She's todaly hitting on you dood!" Even with thier support I am inadiquet of finding motivation. Even when it is right in front of my face. How hard is it to read a name tag, how hard is it just to look? Is it degrading, invasive or just plan rude? What's in a name? As bill would say, I know I hate quoting that play, but it brings about my final point (and a refrence that I hope isn't lost on all)

Where is the encouragment, where are the heros, where are the Romio's to take a leaf from? Where have the white horses gone to, and why are we out of sunsets? Why we deny reality in its entirty rather then twentyfive minute blips? Where have all the cowboys gone and why is reality in our tv? Fantasy Island is gone forever, only to leave space for The Real World. Why can't I string two thoughts togeather and is anyone going to read this, really?

Disclaimer

2006-01-22T18:21:00.000-08:00

I hate following rules I don't like, like for instance the points system. It may work for people, but not for me. When I said, "yeah, I don't think I wil contract for any points. I think its assinine. My roommate folded her arms and said, "then you don't need to be taking the
class." It agrovated me to no end, and this is why. It should be apparent that I want to get as many points as posible, I want to get the best f*cking grade ever! I want to recieve such a good grade that the prof says, "hey, I don't beleive I even have criterion for how well this guy did." And yeah, I'm bitching about the assingment, but I can do that, this is my ranting blog.
That is also the reason why I didn't summit this blog for the class. It didn't have a nice happy tone that was encouraging to other students. I don't want to scare them away or force them to listen to my ranting, but guess what? You all get to hear it anyway, lucky you!! The question you should be asking is: "Why did he link here just to complain about the assingment and cut short hard working profs?" You see I had to explain a little something. "Explain what," you may ask and I shall tell you.

I can't get into the level of critical analysis needed to meet the requirment for this assignment. To continue with the tone and purpose of my pirate blog I have to talk like a pirate. In doing so I must engage in roleplaying to most extream extent. The reason I need to follow such extrodinary measures is to (a) suspend disblief: to get the reader to, not necesarily think that
I am an actual pirate,however view it as a submersed reality. This should allow the reader to (b) have a damn good time and know whenever they visit what they are getting themselves into. Finally, (c) to do something different, something that I have never seen before. To
experenment with a different tone, and in doing so see how said tone can chage the blog (or story) at the fundimental level.

Wow, that was a mouth full. Sorry about your eyes, but wait it gets better. Now I can't comment, as I have stated above, like I would in real life. I can make refrences that force you to make inferences. I can build parales, like the Blue Admiral being the Keg down town,
or the Eastern Tavern is actually the Northern Inn, that's a streach. Stroies may have some shread of proof, be based off of stories I've heard or be compleatly made up.

So I can't say, "Jess really sounds intune when she talks about Loralee. She seems to find real importance in not youth but the understanding of a youthful deminor. I may be going further then she intended, but that's what spoke to me. And as I get older I find I remember less and less. The good the bad, all shrowded by represion, confution, or alcohol
abuse. So I guess I can agree with Jess when she says that blogging may be a tool to help prevent. Which is why I agree that the blog is probably in jurnal format." Instead I am forced to say something like; "Gyarr, Miss Hodgson make an intreaging point indeed, but all the
foolish. I don't know what this Loralee is talking about Looney tunes, apparently it be some kind of metaphore. You konw what I say, What's a meta for? Fer plunderen' a corse, gyarr." And so on.

Granted my restirction is self imposed. I strated this to vent some anger but ended up spending about three hours on it. So I am a bit lost on where I was going. I could find again, but I have to get to the actual assignment, woot! And no, I don't expect you to have read this whole damn thing. I don't expect you to care. But at least understand where I am comming from when I
say this assignment pisses me off. It means to go the extra mile I need to go two. And yes the deadline is ticking away. I might be late, I might offend a few folks and even sware at Morgan at bit. I ain't here to be political, I am here to do the best f*cking job I can.

Got it?

A Better Blogging Experience

2006-01-18T13:08:00.000-08:00

To support my new blog, http://gyarr.blogspot.com I am required to spend less time on this one. Though I think I might be making more posts on this particular blog because it allows me to express who I am, to a certain degree, rather then who a pirate is.. Though I think the pirate might be more fun. I am rather uncertain of this right now, however, I do know that I am still getting the same complaints as I have always recieved with this blog. *) Post more often *) have more links *) Check your spelling *) Rename my link *) More contant less filler *) for God sakes, use a spell checker! etc.

I have just one thing to say to all you nay-sayers. Thank you for visiting my site :)

Something In the Water

2006-01-15T01:35:00.000-08:00

So it appears that the city of Bemidji, my town and frozen haven, has now joined the world wide web. Yes they are up to date and are ready to spread good cheer over the information super highway. Yes, ladies and gentlemen bemidji has a blog! http://bemidjiblog.bolgspot.com Don't get me wrong I think its great and funny and all, I am just worried that I am going to be assigned to leave a comment. Other then Moe rules!! Anyway, it seems a bit wierd that with the funding and myriad out of work comp majors why should they have a blog? No offense to the blogging comunity, to which I have been apart of for some time. It just seems to me that a city should have something more. Oh, how I despise the LEDS!!! Not because of their work of course but because of their reputation. I don't feel that in a city like bemidji we need anyone to be pulling stings. I know that where there is power there will always be those that scroung for it. Yet, it seems a bit too much. oh well.

There is a plethora of new bloggers too, I am so excited. All these folks from my class going on the net saying important things, don't they know that the more content they write and the more effort the invest the more I will have to commit to keep up! Damn the overachivers why can't the world be slackers like me? Well I don't think anything would get done, but honestly it is like a third lit corse, which is something I don't really need right now. Not that my schedual is too demanding, one might say quite lax, yet its a lot of work for a dirty slacker like me. And unless there are going to be random comments about henti I don't think I will visit all too many, or will I *evil laugh* but the pirate blog is comming along nicly. http://gyarr.blogspot.com

I am going to consult my massuse/photogripher/GM about getting some pics of me and my...mess... or whatever to post. That would be better anyway, and there are always those old pics of Angel in the nun's frock and fishnets, now where did I put those? (scrounges for pics) I guess I will find them. Take care all and try not to move too fast, for my sake.

Whiskey Dreams

2006-01-11T23:59:00.000-08:00

So I am away from my computer and dictionary, sorry to say Sean, while enjoying the hospitality of jeremiah. It is an interesting experience being away from the flow of my room, and key board that dosn't stick, ( do I want to know what he was doing with this thing?) Any way, I digress from my original perpose for writing this.

A well of new sensations wash over as I sit back smoking staring into the red lights of the stage as Jermey jams away on his bag pipes. maybe jams isn't the most appropriate word but it feels like it. There is a deffinent lift in the room as emotions ride high. People are feeling rejuvinated and upliffted (becasue I can't spell I repeat damn me) after the depressing beat poem singer before. I am torn between asking me reluctant freinds to dance or random drunk girls. I know my friends will say no, but wont think it weird of me. Where as I would be rejected by the random drunk girls now dancing with eachother and I can only ask why didn't I ask the girl in the corner? Is it because she and I share a class and had shared an akwierd conversation? I say akwierd because it would be just that wierd. I think she knows I have a fancy for her, but nothing stocker-esc. Is it ok to say that, or does there very act of questioning your motives and techniques make you that what you fear; a preditor of the night? Not that I am ever sucsessful or will ever be, yet I know how frightened women can be of the not so honerable advaces of men. Not that I wish to engage in anything of that line, but I have to becase the very act of questioning the actions towards the girl necesitates a "jones" if you will.

My uncle, or mine nuncle, asked me over break weither i have a girlfriend or not and I responded I am between relationships and looking for the right girl. First, I think we are all looking for that right somebody and the somebody we think is right, isn't. The somebody that is right there we think isn't might be, or be the worst mistake ever. And the somebody right now is a whole nother ball of wax I don't even want to get into. Secondly, inbetween sounds polite for saying, "no I am a looser and havn't had a date in over a year!" which is the truth and isn't so bad because I really loved that girl and still care for her greatly even though I know a relationship between the two of us wouldn't work out, and that I didn't pay enough attention to what i had. But, that is my vise, or one of a list, that I do not pay attention to what I have and focus on things that are unimportant or less important. My High School Econ. teacher (a great man though I can't remember his name [purty much a composting between Buch and Ley]) once asked why I was with the girl I was flurting feriously at the time. We wern't doing anything else because I was too chicken shit. I responded to him, "because I am lonly." and he said, "Son, you have your whole life to be lonly." I should have said because I like and want to get into her pants, which was the truth. Though I was a bit inocent at the time. Any way....

As I sat at the Northern listening to my friend pebroke away i realized, hell I need to plan something so hear it is.

Friday, Jan 13. Keg and Cork much drinking to a sucsessful three days back, and three days doing homework woot!! Please come if you can I don't want to drink alone and Angel gave me permition to go out.

Sunday, Jan. 15. Nick is running an IK campain and I am a little bit concerned about how it will turn out but i am optomistic about it.

Monday Jan. 16. Day. Hans is going to run a shadowrun sci-fi adventure, in d6. it should be a blast as he says he has lots of Ideas. I don't know where it will be yet, but I am hoping either my place or Han's dorm, yeah smoking. Non smokers don't realize that a place to smoke inside is a big deal, especially where there are other smokers about so we don't feel guilty about lighting up. You may think we have no morals but we do, we don't like to smoke infront or promote smoking infron of children. We don't want to blow smoke in your face, and we don't want to be rude, or scatter butts all over the place. I being a pipe smoker can easly adapt this one, woot! We just want to smoke with out getting the, it will kill you, you and your loved ones.
First off, yes it will kill me, they have been saying so since middle school health, no I don't think I look cool, yes there are a lot of girls that will not date me because I smoke and it is expencive yes I get it. Second, I don't plan to smoke infront my loved ones or yours unless they are already smokeing (this should rule out your children, but it dosn't. that's not my fault by the way, if you stoped bringing them to the gas station buying smokes and latto tickets and then saying no, you can't have 99 cent candy when smokes are $4 a pack. Damn parents! Love don't smother, ignore or beat. A good ass kicking yeah cause that says I love you johny!! Chances are if you are concered if you are a good parent and your kids are making the right choices, they are. Chances are if your a pious Christen and are of the opinion I raided them right, they wont do anything wrong because of God you need to be Bitch slapped. I am sorry about the language but that's the way i feel. Yet I digress again.

Monday night. Hopfully Muppet show marithon at my place, I have to check it with my roomates. thought it will be a BYOB pot luck, which has both the sweedish and irish in me very excited indeed. Not that sweeds drink but we like pot lucks.

That's the plan, I will update if anything comes up, questions or comments let me know.

Children of Conte

2005-12-20T04:11:00.000-08:00

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

2005-12-18T05:55:00.000-08:00

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

2005-12-18T03:44:00.000-08:00

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

2005-12-14T03:00:00.000-08:00

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.

Plans

2005-11-28T21:48:00.000-08:00

Well, I am about to step away from the story here so please have pithy.
While I can not convey with full linguistic expression what deserves no less then quick silver I will say this.
It has come to my attention that a mate of mine, Mr. Jesse W. Has taken a turn for the worst. It seems that while doctors were hopeful, sadly his condition has turned malignant. While I don't the full details; all I can say is this... This will be Jesses last weekend to live. Monday Jesse will be trasported to a hospice and though this is probably for the best we, his friends have decided that something should be done to celebrate Jesse's life and achievement as a scientist.
And while I do not know how he is handaling or coping with this news he has put on a brave face and continued with class and work.

So often we here news reporters talking of how brave survivors are, or how folks with self inflicted near-crippling ascendants that only happen out of stupidity or negligence are so brave when they face the infinent days ahead changed forever. Jesse is a little different, he is a Virgo for god's sake but we still care. So I pledge to do my part and here it is.
I am planning a day of remembrance in face of unpredictable change. That's right and here it is:
Saturday from about 12:00 - 2:00 we shall build characters, watch movies or play games. At 2ish we shall go to the buffet for a meal at 2:30. We shall eat mightily. After that Jesse will probably need his rest, so a group of people, my self included , will be going to the fourth Harry Potter. After which we shall come back after Jesse nap, and game like champions. We are still looking for DM's willing to run. White Wolf preferred, but any system, I think will be to Jesse liking as long as he is surrounded by supportive happy faces. Please respond or get ahold of me if you wish to help out with this. Remember, charity is not what you do for others, it what you do for yourself.
take care, and stay strong.

Dramatic Emphasis

2005-11-03T11:29:00.000-08:00

Welcome once again to the tales of the not-so-good doctor, Thaddeus Vernon Narosia!
When last we left an (as of yet) unnamed foe had violated the doctors secret sanctity. What dastardly do-gooder dare encroach upon the Doctors nefarious schemes, lets watch.

"Um..." The man in brown replied.
"Um? Um is not a name! Now tell me what I want to hear or my Well Concealed Parana Tank in the Floor will do it for me!"
With that there was the clanking of chains sounded through out the cavern and then silence.
"I said, my Well Concealed Parana Tank in the Floor, are you paying attention up there?" The doctor craned his head to look at the landing above, addressing a stooge in a blue suite. The stooge upon being spoken to directly began to shake with fright. He hastently began to throw switches and press buttons as myiad machines and secret panels opened and closed. The Doctor was beginning to loose patents.
"You know what, Stop! Just stop, how long have you been here, three months? I just can tolerate this kind of insolence, not in my very own layer. I mean it's just too much for me. First a dastardly unnamed foe are brakes into my secret mountain base..."
Um... yeah, about that I just need you to.."
"Ok, Super Brown Suite Man, or what-ever you call yourself, two things" And the Doctor held up to fingers as he spoke to emphasis his points.
"Number one, don't interrupt my monologing. Number two, Don't interrupt My Monologing! Now," the doctor now lowering his voice again to an inside volume, "where was I?"
" brakes into my secret mountain base," said Super Brown Suite Man.
"Right, thankyou," the Doctor nodded politely. "breaks into my secret mountain base, and you can't get the parana tank to work! How do you think this looks? I could just press the button my self but where would be the Dramatic Emphasis? If Lady Daring or say even Pete the Portly where to come calling how would it look to them. I know they don't get this kind of incompetence from their stooges. I mean I gave you a chance, so I think I am going to have to fire you!"
And with that the Doctor pulled out a portable wirerless control panel and pressed what would have been a big red button. (had it been on stationary and quite bulky metal control panel infront of him.) And the nameless stooge in the blue suite looks down in fright as a hole in the floor opens at his feet and a "splash" echoes throughout the cave.
"There," said the Doctor, as screams amid the sounds of gnawing come from the Well Concealed paranoia Tank in the Floor. Then the Doctor turned his full attention back on the task at hand, which of course was the intruder. "Now you have come to thwart me no doubt. Defeat me and the remaining of my stooges, destroy the Photinic oscillator, thereby preventing my Mega-Weather Generator from ever becoming functional, is that it?"
"No, I just need you..."
"Need, need, need, what about my needs? My needs for privacy and of course WORLD DOMINATION! These are very important things for me right now, and I really don't have time, what with hirraring a new stooge and all. I mean their is adds, and getting the job description small enough without being too brief. Though I heard good things about those internet want adds, unlimited space and a single monthly fee... No I dare say I will not have time to toy with you any longer good-bye" and with an evil grin the doctor pressed the would be big red button again and a whining sounded below Super Brown Suite Man's feet, then it stopped.

The Doctor cursed loudly in some Eastern European accent and threw down his control device upon the floor. "Who was responsible the mantanece of the trap doors, honestly this is just ridiculous!"
The Super Brown Suite Man, stepped forward pulling out a small, portable control device of his own. (a contingency the Doctor had not thought of) and with it a small black pointed weapon of unknown destruction. There was a heavy pause as he looked at the Doctor and the Doctor looked at him. Then, the man spoke.
"I need you to sign for the package!"

The Photinic Oscillator

2005-10-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

Its time once again for the infamous tales Dr. Thaddeus Vernon Nerosia

When last we left the not-so-good doctor, he had just acquired the photonic oscillator, a key component for his next great dooms day device.
"Mwahahaha," He cackled into the convent thunderstorm raging about his layer. "Now that I have the photonic oscillator I can complete my Mega-Weather Generator! Once I send out my pirated signal, televisions around the world will carry my message to the masses! Soon the coastal nations of the world will be hit my category four hurricanes! Then the once proud and free nations declare me Almighty Ruler of the World!"
"Umm, excuse me?"
"Never interrupt my monologing!" The doctor turned abruptly to look upon the man that broke the sanctity of his layer. Whom could have tracked him here, certainty it must have one of the fools from the League. They were always a bit rude. "My plan is perfect, how dare you... Wait who are you?"

Oranization

2005-10-05T23:24:00.000-07:00

So I have re-orginized my room and it looks almost fitting to that of a fourth year college student. Now I have to wait for the other aspects to catch up. This idea of oganization is something so fundemental and used so often in microscopic ways, especialy if you are a biology major, every day. Now that I look at what I have done it feels like that is the way it should have been and could have been for months. I would like to say that I have been keeping up with studdies but that would be a streach for even the most achieved student, excluding Jessica of course. There are so many folk that I know that are in an abolute panic and wonder how they will fit in all the things necesary for their studdies. Yet they do, some how, some way, they do it. I suppose it could by that they except the world of academics with open arms, as unchanging. And to be true it is but I can't help if there might be a better way, a funner way. Most students that search for it end up on the block and I guess that is a logical step, but most of those folks are on grass. Which is ok for them, but what people don't seem to be able to understand is that I don't do that kind of.. stuff. I should be able to be as productive as the rest of them. What mostivates them? For me it is a little yellow sheet of paper nailed to my wall. It says that I have a nother chance at the college and represents a new begining. A begining that hastn't begun! Yet I think Slartybartfast had the right when he said "hang the logic and do what makes you happy." Or something along those lines. So I will plug away and pray to the gods of scolastia to bless me with knowlegde and wisdom.

A little about the link, I have never posted a link before and I feel that it is something a lot of folks will get a kick out of. For more of the same go to rathergood.com. Anyway, take care and I will see you all at the next hammer dance.

Memories

2005-09-28T23:26:00.000-07:00

What is it that connects one thought to another, one sensation to sensations long past. I read a poem and it reminds me of friends and family. I smell a flower and it takes me to the hills of Montana where I once knew God. I watch a sappy romantic comedy and I see the smile and the laugh and I get to wonder. Do I shuffle my feet when I am about to reveal one of my inner most secrets? Do I laugh nervously waiting for a response? Have I been so shrouded with myself that I don't know what I want? Am I afraid to even admit that?

Why do movies have scripts, and how are they real life? I would like a script, just once in a while. I could say the right thing, walk in when I am supposed to leave when it my time to go. I could cry on cue and laugh when instructed.

Memories, love is all rhetoric. People hug the same way, kiss the same way even have sex (with exceptions upon occasion) in the same fashion. When I find I am in a situation where some of my past experience is applicable, it seems less real. My love: kisses, massages, etc. used to come from passion. But I don't know if it still does. Is this a new experience or just a new person? What way, or even how do I feel about this? Uncertainty, the only certainty that's remained constant. I just want to find the right girl and make her happy. But perhaps I have already met her; maybe we just met, or maybe we have known each other for years, or maybe talked off and on a friend of a friend kind of thing. Or maybe we had dated and it didn't work then. Maybe I am meeting her now, relatively, and I don't even know it.

But, don't worry about it, right? There is plenty of time to take care of such things. You have your whole life to (think, work, do, etc.) that why don't you focus on the hear and now? Why not prioritize? Because it is a priority, or at least I feel it should be. It feels right to hold someone in my arms. I'm not saying that I want to grab every woman I see, but I want a connection, I want to change. I want to look into her eyes and see wonderful things. Am I Duke Orceino, is my Ophillia just a projection of my preoccupation with flattery and excapism. I hope not. God, I hope not.

What ties an object to a thousand sights and sounds and smells and sensations? What images bring to mind the how to's and plans for the complicated things we do each day? Is an infatuation just a serious of memories we want to repeat? and is being able to predict love just a pipe dream?

not drunk, I sware!

2005-09-12T21:17:00.000-07:00

do to the recent increase of spelling and gramatical errors I have decided to make at least one post where I am not blitzed out of my skull, that and develope my own language. There allowing me never to make another error. The philology is going slow so for now I will just have to be carefull. While I havn't made rounds in a while I plan to very soon. All of your documented aches and pains will be mine to treasure. For now this is a blatent shout out and a roll call for the small group that I have. An invitation of sorts. Cats and kittens keep your scheduals open on the weekend of the 23. All will be made apparent.
did you ever have one of those ideas that seemed brilient until, upon further reflection, it became apparent the inharent improbability of said idea. yes, well, I am confronted with these side tracks in my daily conative period. While I don't mind them durring my hours of slumber I find myself offen looking to remote posabilities and wonder why. What some call a case of day dreaming, or ADD I find irritation. Maybe I am just a poster child of the fire rat, or budding ram but there is a noticable disconection with these thought and the current reality I live in. What ever the cause it can damn itself.
Perhaps being sober has altered my life more then I know or care to see. I think I need to find a beer. Until my next bar visit.
take care of yourselves and each other, yes 90's throw back.

Misspelled and mismanaged

2005-07-21T02:53:00.000-07:00

Some say magic is finite. That it was brought into being when the world was created and there is no more and no less then that level. Other say that when magic dies it is reborn in a different way. Not better or worse, just different. But I know they are all wrong. I am magic an magic is me.

Jack Stevens had an every day life. Blonde, tall, rather thin. He always had the same grungy flannel and jeans out fit. His parents begged him to change it, but that was a long time ago. Now Jack spent his time working at a convenience store during the night. He always hoped he could save up enough money for some schooling. But, for those just above the fringe a stable job was more then enough. But, Jack didn't think so. He would mop and wonder how he could change the world. Young men often try to effect the world in their own way, to leave a mark of their existence. For those with the right connections and enough money that task is easily achievable. For other it is a different matter all together.
"careful where your mopping son!" Jack looked up from his day dreaming at the elderly man that walked into the store. They always seemed to come in ten minutes to close and full of anger at the younger generations. Mr. Morgan was no exception. "And what do I keep telling you Jack?"
"I don't know what do you keep telling me Mr. Morgan?"
"That it is best to wait for this kind of tasks until everyone has left."
"I just wanted to get an early start so I could get home a little sooner." Jack said this while looking at his laces. He wasn't intimidated by Mr. Morgan but he knew the old man would appreciate it more if he had something to complain about. Sure enough a soft smile cracked Mr. Morgan's cracked face. "Listen, Jack, there is all the time in the world for someone as young as you. Who knows, perhaps something will come along a change your life forever."
Jack hoped he was talking about romance and passion. He did more then his fare share of staring and stuttering and felt that any kind of change would be a good change. There was this particular girl, Julia, flowing auburn hair and always smartly dressed. But, that was another unreachable dream. He was stuck where he was. It wasn't until Mr. Morgan cleared his throat that Jack looked up to realized the mop water was getting all over Mr. Morgan's shoes. "Sorry, about that, really, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about, it happens, just keep your mind focused, patience. You will change the world one day."
Jack look after him as Mr. Morgan walked up the the counter to by his straits or "death torpedoes" as Mr. Morgan liked to call them. Patience, ha, that's laughable. Nothing is going to change, Jack thought as he finished mopping. At least I don't think anything will change. ______________________________________________
Jack got up the next day with an ache in his back from mopping and an ache in his libido. He didn't really care about his own dreams, that even if he could make somebody else's life better it was worth it you know. He told this to Rebecca as he got his coffee over on third and Grand. "I know it's a hopeless case, but some kind of change would be good." Rebecca merely smiled at him warmly.
She had vibrant blue eyes, the kind you could get lost in if you didn't catch yourself and the kind of softness that would melt a lions heart. Which, incidentally, she bore a striking resemblance to. He once blonde hair was died pitch black, except around the edges and bangs which were blood red. People said that eye brow and lip pircing were unnerving but Jack liked them. They brought here down to his level and besides who wants to be associated with a hypocritical class. They looked down on her and she didn't seem to care one bit. She just went about her business and didn't mind the looks. The stalker she could do without but being pieced, tattooed and defiant didn't mean she was easy, just determined to know who you where,and not what golf club you had a membership to. Jack always thought that was a bit noble and kind of fetching.
" I don't know why you are feeling so down about this." She said patting his arm. Jack felt a shiver go up his arm and down his spine. Rebecca obvious sensed this and retreated to behind her counter. "One day you will make a big impression, wait and see."
"How?" Jack said to his cup of coffee as it merely sat there getting colder. Black as the night he surrounded himself in. Rebecca looked up from whipping the counter and looked at him earnestly, sizing him up. "You will make somebody's dream come true."
"Yeah," Jack chuckled lightly, "and who's dream is that." There was a pause as Rebecca thought about this for a while. "I don't know, but you will know it when you meet them."This encouragement is why Jack came here, it warmed him up the way coffee never could. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he looked up at her. "Well then, what is your dream?"
"Acting," she said bluntly and when off to help a newly arrived customer.
Jack sat a moment staring at his coffee which was completely cold and tasteless, which did help it. No matter how he looked at it, Macedonian Almond Deluxe wasn't a name for a cup of coffee, It would better suit a combo band, some sort of emo thing. Jack chuckled to himself picturing the part goth, part punk, part Christen pop group as they say sang their number one title, "I'm nuts for the Lord." Jack dumped the coffee in the trash and was about to walk out the door when Rebecca called to him. "Jack, I'm serious, if you know any connections, let me know.""Will do," and Jack gave a little wave as he left thinking if he had any connections why in the hell would he still be working at the gas station.
As the door shut Rebecca looked down at the sizable tip Jack often left either out of interest or apathy. She didn't know why she never just gave Jack her number, she never felt he had eyes for her. I could try though, she thought. It wouldn't hurt to try, next time. Rebecca walked acrossed to the counter and turned up the light music station.
"We are all in a shell.
just waiting,
waiting to be cracked.
Uuuuh, uuuh, uuuh.
And we don't ever
wanta go back.
Uuuuh, uuuh, uuuh.
'Cause we're Nutts
Nutts for The Lord."

Tainted Hearts in a Glass City

2005-07-10T18:09:00.000-07:00

"Out of my way freak!"
Jack suddenly found him self falling toward the ground and then felt it coiled with him
as his books scattered along the length of the hall. People looked now, they looked nervous and
concerned. Halfway between joy and fear they laughed tentatively, waiting for Jack to react. But
he didn't, he never reacted. Jack didn't allow them to get a rise out of him. Their tricks were
getting old now that they were in high school. He was used to the sneering, the ridicule and
pranks. They always called him freak, weirdo or any number of expletives they could think of.
People scattered around him now, none offering assistance. Jack gathered up the rest of his books and straitened up. He was tall for his age, about 5'7" but not nearly tall enough. He was thin, not from malnourishment but from his high metabolism. He never could keep any thing on him but never really tried that hard. He adjusted his glasses, got a better grip on his books and
continued to class.

He was nearly at the door when the bell rang. "Mr. Thompson, your late again." A cold
voice echoed from the front of the room as the door shut with a slight slam. "One would think
you might be as sensible to arrive on time to my class, like the rest of your little friends." An
unmistakable sneer crossed Mr. Guthrie's lips. A look came into his eyes, cold satisfaction.
The general class that had been snickering now fell into a hush, as if Mr. Guthrie's eyes
commanded it through sear force of will. "Now, Mr. Thompson, I will ask you to take your seat only once.. MOVE BOY!"

Jack crossed the room quickly and sat down next to the window. His eyes now following
Mr. Guthrie's hands as they moved about during the lecture, yet his mind was elsewhere. People were often nervous around him and the sensible people were careful to tread lightly. They all looked at him, like a bomb ready to go off. His teachers, classmates and even his parents were sure to give him a wide birth, but one that was unwelcome like that given to a smelly dog. It's not that he didn't know why it just seemed like such a stupid thing. His grandfather was clinically insane. One day he started to shouting about dangerous monsters and the townsfolk got concerned. Jack didn't know much about what happened to his grandfather, only that he died
sometime after that.
Jack wasn't proud of his family, but his grandfather at least had some imagination. His
parents were about as serious as they could come. His father was a public relations director for
Donaldson & co., a very large conglomerate in the area. While his mother was a case worker for
the Dashwood County board of child wellness. There was nothing that involved imagination or
creativity at his house. Well, except his sister. Jenny went to college out of state, Deer
Creak Tech. She was a music major and about the only person Jack could talk to after he was
eight. It was about that time he begin to see them. They were at the park, in the woods and at
the docks, they loved the docks. Shapes, vague shapes of something that should be human but
weren't quite loomed just beyond his field of vision. He told his parents he saw these shapes and
they ignored him. But he wasn't making it up then and he certainly wasn't making it up now.
Everyone just assumed he slipped like his grandpa, but he can still see them and no
matter what everyone else said or how they scoffed the amorphi were still there. If there was
any truth in this world it was that and that alone was enough to sustain Jack through the thick
of it. He just wondered why, sometimes. "Mr. Thompson!" Jack shook his head a little and looked
up quizzically. "I am sorry, Mr. Thompson, if you do not find my warning concerning enough..."
"What warning?"
"The warning," Mr. Guthrie snarled. "That I was giving to the rest of your classmates who had at least enough brains to pay attention to know that mid-level graduation assessments are in two
weeks."
Jack held his breath, waiting for Mr. Guthrie to continue but he just stared back. The two were
engaged in the fiercest of contest when the bell rang.

"Please do not forget that the assessments will be one of the key factors in determining what
kind of college you get into and therefore stands as the door way for your entire future." Mr.
Guthrie did not move as he said this the rest of the class packed their things hastily and left,
though a few waited outside of the door to see what would happen. Mr. Guthrie's eyes fell back
to Jack. "I expect at least a pass from you, do not make me look bad." And with a turn he was
gone and off to the staff room.
Jack sighed in relief, another day done.

Profound chatter

2005-07-01T05:26:00.000-07:00

First and foremost it has been a long time all and I am glad to streach my legs and get back in the "pool of the masses." I was instructed to add to my site and in obliging find my self perturbed by my lack of efficient thought. It's not that I didn't have ideas before, no I had them and they were revolutionary. They would have changed the world I say, but now they are lost between the infinite "I am" and the vast nothingness, right next to the socks I keep losing in the dryer. I have restarted Utopia and am very pleased with the result. For those of you who do not know, utopia is an online, text, real-time, strat game. Though I did get called a philosopher, "The dilutions of a leader are not worth criticizing when the apathy of those effected and represented is overwhelming." It's funny when real-time strat games reflect the current political climate. But this is not sufficent when it come to metionable tales. Perhaps in the after math of a catoclismic revolatoin, the words don't hold as much meaning as they once did. Or just maybe it was always insoficient and I just didn't notice. More tales to come

Movers and Shakers

2005-05-10T02:05:00.000-07:00

It has come to my attention that very few things are solid. Most of witch are the intentions of man. By the way feel free to point out the spelling errors, for I am very drunk. Now, as I have said few things are clearer then the intentions of men. By which, I refer to the meaning of the scale, yes there is a scale that men and women view relationships both friendship and otherwise. But it is pointed out by that scale that men don't have two different categories, which women do have. They only have one. Those they are willing to engage in certain acts. One of my friends confessed to me tonight in a very inebriated state, that I probably shouldn't mock but I must so I am very sorry. He confessed that he would like to engage in these activities with another friend of mine, to which, I sadly agreed. I feel embarrassed both for his sake and mine, but realize that both of us have something in common. That when drunk, humans can make rash dictions. Not necessarily bad but rash non the less. Now I don't know what this implies, other then that I am a sick fuck. To which many might agree but please hold, my compatriots. There are so many things involved that I don't even know where to begin. Probably with the phrase: "It has been a long time." which would be very true but would detract from the matter at hand. What I mean to say is this. Is that we make bold moves from time to time, but in my experience these bold moves are not bold enough. We should seize the bull by the horn but we do not. Maybe it is the training we have had to endure, say that men need to be softer, gentler, more in touch with our feelings. Yet, I look back on the men of our passes and I feel ashamed. What would they say? Suck it up, keep moving, damnit make a move! I think of my grand father who was known for his apathy toward emotion and his confessions there of and I think "damn how old fashion." But maybe they thinking similar thoughts about us. Thoughts of moving forward and so I say grab the bull by the horns we, perhaps I, need to be bolder in our day to day life. That in our states of inebriations and sports glory feel that these expressions are excusable. That, perhaps, in our most desperate times we engage in this because we have no comfort left. Very truly I tell you, we don't have many comforting times ahead. Look to the signs and you will see a bell curve of disatorous proportions. The new beasts of war, how true these thoughts out. So cherish your dreams and make them realities. Though perhaps I am just another mad man, searching for a truth that will not come. Maybe yes, maybe no but baby I got it in spades and so. Embrace the dark thoughts of your mind. A time will come when they wont be possible, so make them possible now. And with this, maybe just maybe we can put off the impending doom and take shelter in our way of life for another day more. Just a thought.
-:fly free:-

Modern Art

2005-04-11T01:33:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows I am a dork. I am known for having a fondness for things that most don't. Needless to say, I find my self channel surfing between cartoons often. Subsequently, the Disney channel has become one of the staples of my routine. Why do I bring this up? I was watching a commercial for Disney's radio stations and marveling in it. Not because I am found of animals singing in human voices, well maybe I am. But, I was certainly not marveling at the commercial for the quality of the singing and the quaintness. No, I was marveling at the marketing. The careful planning, the regurgitation of repetitive pop, the audience tested and parents approved final product. I knew this advertisement was the brain child of a low-level marketing employee. The credit was taken by a higher-level executive and an even higher-level executive took credit for it claiming it was part of his new "Out of the Box" approach. Like his self-led seminars that he subjected his underlings to lead to this out come. This commercial helped maintain Disney's hold over the entertainment business and keep America running the way it is. It assisted keeping jobs in America and was "family friendly". In short I was thinking like a Republican and it scared me. Not that I have anything against Republicans. They do their job and I do mine. By my age group and beliefs I am required to be a Democrat and rather like it. There are many things in the Democratic platform that I agree with. But, when it comes to more real world issues I find my self cheering for the Republicans to get a grip. Their president elect and the congress under him are taking the federal government in a more active role. I know that's not proper grammar, but I can't remember what is at the moment. Interjecting in certain recent events that will remain unnamed was not the place of the government and maybe indicative of something much more traumatic. Bush, in seeking to close the gap, may infact cross it. And so I and indeed the other 49% are reminded of the phrase we asked the rest of you, "what the fsck?"

Anyway, I decide to take a step back and look at like a should, a struggling and unqualified writer. I found myself puzzled by it, or by my fondness for it rather. I know it held relatively no emotional representation, no overall message about the creator or the society s/he lives in. From what I could tell it held no artistic value of any kind, even marketing singing animals was done before my Quiznos. (I think that's the right spelling) Anyway, my point is this: I found my analysis of the commercial reflecting myself more than the commercial. And if this is the case, then maybe all written and verbal analysis are indicative of the author/speaker rather then the subject. Why then do we get so hot-headed in arguments? How can we stand by our convictions knowing that the "Facts" are really just a series of things we believe in? Certainly some can be quantified or qualified my modern science and record keeping. Yet still, a large number of "facts" are just to the contrary, opinions and personal values. Knowing this, what does that mean? Nothing, no grad knowledge or realization can of this. I am not the first person to think of this or write it. So what does it mean? Maybe, that the realization that this thought came to me is enough. Maybe that since I now have more first had experience and know myself better, I can come to terms with the world around me. And then I realize why I like marketed, regurgitated crap, because it's excapeism. And I am back a square one, oh well.
May the Muse smile upon you all
\/
-O-O-
()
-
"

Wisdom

2005-04-03T01:04:00.000-08:00

So I did a foolish thing the other day and quite pleased with it. I mailed my little (16) brother by identification so he could go clubbing with this girl that he really likes, "She's smoken' Matt!". Now it wasn't my picture I.D. because my brother and I look nothing alike. Instead I mailed him, his idea, my pre 21 papers. He said he didn't even use it and had a wonderful time. He also said that he appreciated my word of wisdom. Which just goes to prove the reason I am so good with kids is their gullibility. No, that mean. What I meant to say is this. I really enjoy instructing young adults, especially when they listen. This are looking up as I prepare for a game in my history class. It's role playing and I am doing what I can to help out my the folks in my group, in motivation, research etc. And I'm loving it. They are learning and hopefully having a good time and I am glad I am in the education field. I am planning to even talk to my instructor to see if I can lead a game, with the help of Jack and Steve hopefully. This would help me encourage role-playing, increase my grade and stick it to Greg. Who is a history Major, you all know him, he is always hunched over, has an opinion on absolutely every thing and boisterous leading toward insulting to every one he knows. Well maybe not everyone he knows but certainly to his peers. He is worst of all a leatist who looks down on others for being "pretentious." (paraphrasing here) For example he has qualms with Dr. Gurney and his Fo British accent. Also, he points out that I might be as well for smoking a pipe. While this might be true on a subconscious level its not on a level that I want to admit and so I fervently deny it. So, in conclusion, a point against Greg is a point for the home team; any home team. I can only hope that with this new opportunity for my personal expantion it will help me profetionaly and spiritualy as I try to come to grips with the future and one day growing up. Any way, got to run. May the Muse bless you all.

Sorry

2005-03-24T23:38:00.000-08:00

I would like to apologize to one and all for that bad display, yet I can not bring my self to delete it. Eventhough it is not of me, it is of me and if I were to delete it I would be deleting a part of myself that I do not want to forsake right now. Granted I should, but that being said I won't, not yet. Not that I will never delete it, probably some time soon in fact. I just wanted to vent so energies, I guess.

The problem and blessing of drinking (and sleep apnia for that matter) is that it lowers social inhibitions. You just don't care. Now cross that with the impersonal nature, no offence, of the web audience and you get something that is totally far from your public self and near and dear to your private self. Or not, maybe it's just an act or just a competition. You could careless but some thing challenged you, not a person because you couldn't know if it was a person or not. The computer is too disconnected of a medium for that.

Again, I am sorry, please forgive me, and please don't stop reading.
=-Fly free-=

Counting The Hours Until I Can See You Again

2005-03-24T02:36:00.000-08:00

- To You, enchantress of the brilliant stars -
I am sure you can not stand the mad ramblings of a drunk man; but please, my lady, take these drunk ramblings from a mad man to heart. I know I can not be half the man you deserve. But still your beauty has captured me and I can never take light. I know I will never achieve the grace that is your good graces but I pray you find no irritation in me. For the bitterness it would leave in my brest, as a thousand dagger that fill me. Oh, your eyes that shine like the stars in the heavens and your gentle laughter how it fills me. I can not but help to smile when you enter the room, for your poise and majesty precedes you. The wonder that is you, in all your form, in all your person and in all your spirit. Let it be ours to share, and I will share everything with you, eveything that I am; but I could never measure to you. Like a goddess you look down, with a smile to match your crown. Your gentle movements they enchant all that see. I wish my eyes could wonder, but then they would surely sunder after the sight of your true beauty. My pulse quickens when I think of you and my soul reaches when I dream of you. You have touched my life so quick I am unprepared. The way you float in a room, the way you carry a tune. But rest my heart for it is bare; and open to you. Let me show my intentions are pure. Honesty, honestly, nothing else but could even cross my mind. Your tone so kind and I unrefined beseech the most elegant I that any seeking man can find. Oh, let this night never end, your wit your charm are beyond compare. Your features so fair, but that is not all I could go on and on. So let us end here, with anticipation and fear. And the brighter hope that tomorrow brings. Let the sun give its shine, and this question reside in your heart of hearts tell me true. Let you mine and I be thyn? Least let me say that I love you.
-From the one who wishes to know you better.
If only for an intent, let it be.
But if more, all angels sing and horns sound.
From the bottom of my bosom, may you receive.
Let all trials impose and I shall scatter them.
For the peace you give, I shall walk the burning coals.
Come to my arms and I shall keep you safe.
There let us be, and I shall never careless.
You are my top priority... My darling.

A Little Read Wine

2005-03-18T00:26:00.000-08:00

So.. it's been a while, a good place to start I guess. Many folks are encouraging me to get back on the blogging wagon and I appreciate their efforts but question the result. As by now, for further assurance view my last entry, I am very easy to read. Almost too easy, and it upsets me that I can't keep some things in the dark about my self. Even if I could, or am, most could guess these "secrets". I still sit in the same position as I did and will always sit of course. I write, vent, and feel that in the process have come across a deep wisdom that I could apply to every day life. And I endeavor to do so, but rarely see these go to fruition. What kind of things do you ask? Some times as simple as, hmm I should really care about what I'm doing and care about my future and try my best each and every day. Then there are some things that I think are truly profound, like t.v. and lit as an opiate for the masses, or a really cool Idea for a romantic comedy. The problem is, again, I forget I thought or they seem somehow less profound on the other side of dawn. (Whether I see it or not) I try to apply these things in chants or easy to remember rhymes. The truth is I am a poemer, and a damn good one, but I hate poemers' my self especially. I have written "poems" of course I have! Everyone writes them, and everyone thinks there bloody terrific. Poems or even writing itself is therapeutic, (if I can spell it) and it is good to analysis your works to get at the deep dark feelings of your mind and soul. But the problem is I forget what I learned. So I post it and what happens. I will get a response, reading me perfectly. Telling me that my wine about poems stems from a self-hatred that if I learn to except my poems as bloody terrific then I can accept my self for being the blood terrific person I am. I can learn and grow and become the true man, the true artist, and the quintessential writer. I could even wear turtlenecks if I wanted, and that would be just terrific. But it wouldn't, I refuse to do any of this, and someone will read into that and tell me to be patent, no offence Stephen, but I tired of it. I am tired of being immature, but I don't want to "Grow up", because physically I am grown, but I still feel behind. That kind of make sense, when I think about the folks I hang with, they're smart. Really smart, not all of them are the tops, but most of them, and the rest of them are damn far up there. So where does that leave me, waving up at them... and don't send some BS reply saying, Grubbs, come on buddy, your really smart. Because I know this, and then you say. Be patent and study and you will be as well vested in the various forms of knowledge as we are. And to this I say "humbug." So what I am I trying to say. Nothing I guess, nothing productive anyway. Hi all, everyone says hi to each other. Angel if you are reading this, Dr. Goergina says hi. anyway, peace
-=Fly free=-

Time

2005-02-14T23:33:00.000-08:00

So I am twenty, nearly twenty-one, and I feel old. Not when I look in the mirror and yell at my face for growing little more than peach fuzz. I feel old looking at women and I have to wonder, is this normal? Let me elaborate. I was watching, Walking Tall, with the Rock, and noticed that the main male love interest looked barely out of high school, and striping! Now striping male love interests I have no problem with, it's just when you say, "Wow, she looks young," you tend to scare your friends and yourself. I realize that she is probable in her late twenties, early thirties, but it just doesn't seem to click. Why do they have to make them look so young? Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for forty year-old strippers. That would be distasteful, but I am just looking for a women that is as old, as I feel. I look around campus and realize that these kids come and go, they grow up, have sex, drink a lot (not much to do up here), and eventually graduate. I suppose wisdom is a virtue, and stagnation is a frame of mind, but is it too much to ask for someone mature and as lost as myself? I also wonder why there has to be a sex carnival on Valentine's Day and why kids were running around while this was going on? Why do we need sexual responsibility week in college? Perhaps, we are just no better then high scholars after all. It is strange, when is the transition from being taught and teaching take effect and when are we no longer what we were and become what we will be? Oh Time, thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me to untie(Twelfth Night; II,ii,39-40). A lot of things come and go as we grow, a child is no more or less then a state of being, a dad is a dad, and a father a father, it's all how you look at it and apply yourself. Do you step up or let it be? They told me, when I was growing up, to "pick your battles," to "don't fight what you can't win." "Play by the rules and you will get far." Maybe, I didn't drink enough fluorinated water, or maybe I drank too much. But, there it is, your moment, my moment of enlightenment. And if you should see some bewildered freshman, wandering that halls of your hallowed learning place, choose not to haze and guild. We all were that wide eyed child, staring into the infinite unknown known, once upon a time. Once upon a time I was content with drinking games, once upon a time I got excited about have a bottle of beer in one hand and a girl, three sheets to the wind, in the other. But, I guess we all have to step up and take responsibility for the battle we choose to fight, and the battle we have to fight. The sad part about this is, I will forget all this. This experience, this wisdom (if you will let me call it that), this self-enlightenment, and revert to my old slacker self. Sometimes I hope to take a little away from what I right, but more often then not it sticks, like a dollar bill to fly paper. If you can salvage the bigger half, it still counts for one dollar American, but nobody looks at it the same. If you can salvage it, it's kind of the same, but not. So I will just sit down, eat my lunch, read my text books and ignore the children that walk past. Hoping that I get out of here soon and dreading the day I am released into society.

Just as a disclaimer, I don't think that the Shakespeare police will get on my case for quoting with out sighting...or they might so I throw it in there. Paraphrasing is nice, but if some one already did it better why bother?
=-fly free-=

The Past, How It Glows

2005-01-21T14:25:00.000-08:00

So I was just running through some of my old posts and decided to write again. I just wanted to inform one and all that I am planning to pick up the writing here again. I have a project in the works called: Ed the Idealist. I should be ok, unfortunately it requires some setting stuff that I need to brush up on. Anyway, my favorite pen broke, aww... And rather than throwing it away I decided to duck tape it instead. So it works. I even wrote a little tester I can pass onto you all.

To the end I say "adieu" and to my past I say, "We are through."
And if by and by I weep, weep not for me.

Yes I know it's bad, but you're reading it aren't you? As for the break I apologize and hope your will stick with it.
:-Fly Free-:

Sci-fi Teaser

2004-11-18T18:09:00.000-08:00

So I've decided it put this little thing up, mostly because my computer can't print and I am too lazy to use a disc.

The massive federation transport passed overhead lifting Devon's hair and Mortimer's toupee. It was almost reminiscent of a time when Diotame had warm coastal breezes and fields of grass swaying in the wind. That was Before the federation got too big, when Hari'llon was a small and insignificant planet. But it was significant to them. This was a peaceful city, at least it used to be.

What once were family shops and open air markets now are seedy bars and dirty brothels. A city once so pure and clean now is the port, the chief space port in all of Hari'llon. Massive buildings and fueling yards have arisen from the ashes of the clean city they once knew, now just a distant memory slowly fading away. Companies and crime lords rise and fall, but the memories are there. Maybe not as strong as they used to be, but those memories are the only thing left of the city they once grew up in.

Devon looked over with a melancholy expression. "Well Mortimer, it was once ours."
"It sure has gone down hill." Mortimer replied with out looking up.
"Yep, I remember when.." And then he paused reflectively as a bar stool promptly crashed through a near-by window and smeared his little old man body all over the pavement. His friend's sudden death was such a shock to Mortimer that he didn't see the broken bottle flying toward the back of his head. As he fell to the ground screaming, his blood pooling around him, his last thoughts reflected the past and what could possibly bring about this turn of events that lead to his premature but not terribly unexpected demise.

Wow, been a while

2004-11-18T14:19:00.000-08:00

Hey all, sorry about not writing for a long time. It turn out that peanut butter does not go well with marmalade skies, or boys for that matter. Hachacha. Any who, I have a few projects in the works and hope to advance them both here and in club. Unfortunately I have not decided weather to pursue the graveyard gothic scenario or move to a lighter more comical application. But, I should have something up by this weekend. I shall not be put down by contemporary authors who have more grandiose material, and more material in general. I shall fight on. Oh, I almost forgot.
Lindsey, I miss you, and can't wait to see you. Five days and I will be with you and ... un-orange. I can only imagine the lecherous sun gazing enviously at the illumination of your grace and beauty. How I miss your warm smile, your warm skin, how I want to hold you so tight once again. But I shall wait on baited breath until the day of Tue, until that far away night that I will be (dramatic pause) with you ...um right, we'll leave it there for now.

-=Live Free, Write Free, Write to Live, Live to Write=-
This is my Manifesto

The Grave Yard

2004-09-27T02:14:00.000-07:00

“Dong!”
“Dong!”
Crows settled in the lifeless tree on the edge of the cemetery.
“Dong!”
The moon was fuller than it had been, a wicked light, on a wicked land.
“Dong!”
The devils fruit, green ghostly clouds seeped up from the earth it had been sealed in.
“Dong!”
A supernatural effect on an unhallowed night. Surly not the work of mortal men.
“Dong!”
“Ka!” The crows grow restless. The shift uneasily, but excitedly in their perch.
“Dong!”
“Crunch!” Gravel shifts as three unmarked black cars pull up just out side the gate. Then a Rattle at the bars.
“Dong!”
“Ka!”
“Snap!” “Click” “Plunk” The lock is cut and falls as the rusted gates are pulled, screeching, open.
“Dong!”
“Crunch,” the men in suits move in, hoping against hope, praying there is still time. Quickly they begin to check for signs.
“Dong!”
Another hour past how can this be? The hasten their search, but find not what they seek. And Clouds begin to cover the sky. Though no rain falls, no light falls either.
“Dong!”
The men know they are out of time and struggle to finish. If one man were to lag all of them would feel his mistake. Their fate he choose to seal, willingly.
The crows begin to call like mad, and men scramble to the gate, but equipment is still on the field. One brave man runs to get it as his friend and partner holds the gate open for him.
Then the clouds move.
“Dong!”
And a blood red moon appears. The crows fall silent and watch as the green gas seeps no more.
The man bends down to grab the equipment that was so precious, so vital and hears a scratching to his left. Then to his right, and then all around. From a scratching it progresses into a clawing. Then man stands up, half of the equipment in hand, and runs for the gates. The look of terror covers his face as from behind him hands emerge from the earth. The once fearful claw is now a deathly mown, as the dead rise. The man drops the equipment and runs to the gate as fast as he can. He then knows, knows he will not make it and calls for his friend to close the gate. Though the other refuses, “Just a little further Johnson, come on!” He runs, the hands are close now. He can smell the breath of death, to fearful to turn around. He runs and just makes it, just makes that is but not really…
Clouds cover the moon, and then dissipate as the glowing orb returns to its unnatural yellow. Crows begin their calls again as fresh meat lies for the picking. Three cars and ten blood soaked bodies lie unmoved. All of the faces twisted in silent horror, muscles bent and contorted in ways that they should not be. Ten bodies lie on the other side of the gate, one with had reaching out, in toward the cemetery. The wind blows through, picking up dead leaves, and dispersing them at its whim. A single set of drag marks are found. There was something, or someone dragged into the tomb below. There was no sign of struggle, blood splatters suggest that the body was long dead at the time. Though if you listen hard enough, they say. On a night when the moon is full, and crows are silent. You will hear his screams, screams into the night.
But, they are just stories to frighten small children to sleep, while their parents stay awake and drink into the night. Complaining about their dull day, and their boring jobs. Special Agent Johnson would have traded them, I think. But they just sit there, sipping their boxed wine. Not worried about the dangers of the night, not aware of what horrors the shadows hold.

Been a While

2004-09-22T13:28:00.000-07:00

I am sorry, oh my fans, that I have left you high and dry these many days. I know how much you need me and my life to supliment your own insignificant existances. So here it goes. Everything is going well, or as well as it can be. The ren fest went off with out a hitch. Well, I take that back it went off with a big hitch, and I lost bruce (crying at comp). But all and all I had a good time. I actully got my girlfriend a flower. Unlike those namby pamby slacker boyfriends, I was thinking. There was this show see The Washing Well Wenches. It was a hot day outside and steve said that the actresses would fling water around. So we go to this thing and they, The two actresses who make really convincing wenches, ask for three (3) men who are romantic. They would give us a little token of thanks, so we could give it to our girls. Yeay! Everyone is encouraging me too, do it, do it. So I go up there, bruce in poket, full of confidence. Then they turn to the aduance and laugh. Then they dilliver a line say how simple men are, and that you "Never get anything free from a women" in there little sing-song voices. So they have one man run over to a guy and scream "Daddy, Daddy why did you leave me?" and hug the perfect stranger. Then they make him take the carnation, out of one of the wences teeth. After he sits down they turn to me. With my task in hand I run out about 30 yeards from the show and shout, "I am an animal, I am a savage, Take me to the new world." All the while beeting my chest. Yes sir, so I get the carnation from the wench. I must explane this a bit better, I know they are actresses, I know this is a show. But, it must have been the heat, because apperently I thought it would be a good idea to add to the show. I turn to the aduaince and make a face or two, that I guess they got. Of course no part of me is suddle and people look at me and whisper amoung themselves, "why is makeing that face?" So I get the carnation, all the while the audiace shouts, "teeth, theeth, teeth" and she plays with it of coures. Anyway, I get done, thankful I am not splashed , and jog back to my seet amid applause. I turn toward Lindsey and say the most romantic thing I can think of, "This bud is for you." I know pretty bad. But it was a good day, and I got some really good info if I would want to work there next year, which of corse I do.

Anyway, that's about all I have to say,
(+==fly free==+)

Packing in a Hurry!

2004-08-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

So...It's that time again. Time for another entery. Right, but I have to make this quick and start packing, yes start, like I would be prepaired. Any way, Like I said I am done at the gas station and will be going up to school in two days. Right now I am working at the state fair, at Grand Stand Minni, which makes *drum roll* minni donuts, yay! So for four days I get to make donuts, for a good wage, and help the DFL get a bit of money. All good right, no! not so much. It has been so packed this year I can bearly scream. When I got to work today at 3:30 pm we had a two lines at each window. We didn't get ride of the lines until 10:30 pm not so cool. Plus I releared everything at the fair isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Surprise surprise. Like the fact the the china town minnasota, the chines food place, is run by a group of lutheran churches. And that thier "asian nudle bowl" isn't. I was hoping for glorified roman nodles, not too much I would say. But no...the asian noodle bowl is actualy chicken soup! But as I looked into the bright moonlight reflecting in the brown grease while cleaning the booth until 5:15 in the morning, I realised something. I ony get to do this once a year, and I wouldn't want to do it any more. haha. So the next you all will problably hear from me is when I am in school. Wish me luck, and while I am here does anyone need any donuts? C-:fly free:-D

2004-08-23T12:47:00.000-07:00

It's that time again....time again to wear potatos in our pants, no. Time for another post. It has been awile and I did far less writing then I would have liked. Far less being nothing substantial. Of course I worte some stuff for campains and I tried to start a few stories. But, nothing, so I awiat school with eager anticipation, hoping against hope that I shall gat out of this slump. IF not that, then another round of intermediate writing will certainly jostle lose my cob webs. Other than that I am doing well. Lindsey and I celibrate out one mounth anivercery today, yay! Though our time togeather grows sader as school aproches. I havn't started packing or even shoping for school. Though I can't stop bying things or thinking about renfest. If Jesse and Sabrina can hear this congrats! I hope your continued future togeather is full of roses and many sucsessful campains. He, he great games Haza! I am finaly done for a while at the gas station and it is a good thing. The area is getting a facelift, a new superwalmart is going in where the old mall used to be. because of this new shops and stores are going up in the area as well. But to do this, the city of sait anthony has dacided to close down 37th streat. just enough so pepople can not get in and out of the store with out driving through the cub parking lot or the "old taco bell building", wow that is great to say. Both routes do also include a bumpy ride on poorly put togeather dirt roads. The woo was not made for dirt, it was made in Koria! Any way, we now get the greatest anoiying question of all time, "How do I get out of her now?" To which if you reply "The same way you got in" people will be offended. I don't know why. That makes sence to me. any way, I am done with that crap for two more samesters, as long as I can keep my act togeather. Which my parents are beeing really cool about, but still it nags every time we talk. so, I endevor to do better this year, and hopfuly break my patern of lazyness. For what it's worth, thanks for reading, I hope to see you all real soon. -fly free- R.F.U.: So here it is. I think we are stuck with the whole labor day weekend thing, yet my parents are totally cool with it. That is having folks stay at my place. My cloak is nearing compleation, and thing are shaping up to be rather spiffy. It's good to be the king.

Some Kind of Federal Thing

2004-08-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I LANed for the first time this summer. It feels so good to get my game on, its like being at school again. But, alas that wont be for a while and I still have frustrating work to get done. The SA I work at now just hired two new employees. A cute Asian and a marine. It's starting to really feel like a friendly place, but I am glad that my services will no longer be needed. As of This up coming Sunday I will not have to worry about work at that SA for a long, long time, yeah! Any who, and after the 22nd I will leave freedom for another fall of mailing, addressing and taking calls woot. Then I am off to the fair, to make minni-donuts. yum! I will probably grab a bag or two to bring up with me. If a few friends would like to come down to the cities and spend an afternoon or evening at the fair. I would like to strongly encourage them to visit the first four days, and to stop by Grand Stand Donuts, conveniently located near the grand stand, and see me :D I can't say anymore.

Ahh....It's going to be great, Though I found out that we, those of us that go to BSU, get labor day off. So we go to class the 31, a tues have classes till Friday and then get a 3 day weekend. It's not that I am complaining, just It makes no sense. Why not just start classes latter. Lord knows I need the money at the fair, (and the donuts) , why not just wait till after labor day, what do they not get some kind of federal grant if they wait. Like I said, it just makes no sense to me, that's all.

RFU
as far as the ren fest is concerned, I still don't have my cloak ready, and as far as pants I have nothing....F34R not, I will not be pantsless, that is something I wouldn't even wish upon my Lindsey. Anywho, as far as Davis' Idea about the group rate it's good, you can prebuy your tix for $16, though I am trying to get some happenings coupons, for those of you who don't know There is a coupon book called the Happenings Book. It runs about $25, but it's worth it, if there is anyone out there who has one and is thinking about going to the ren fest use coupon C40, it is a buy one admition, regular price and get one free. A very good deal so phone your aunt Ethel and spend some time with your mom, general admition is about $18, that means it's about $9 with coupon and a friend. :D Other than that, keep reading for new updates
=-Fly Free-=

SQ33K!

2004-08-03T23:06:00.000-07:00

So the new megagear store is open and I am excited. Plenty of things to spark my cult/fanboy fancies. Check it out, and be not disappointed. Also, Lindsey and my self went to check out the new movie Harold and Kumar Go to White castle. So I knew I spelt there names wrong but check out the movie anyway, if there is a little part of you that is a stoner, or you just like laughing at them check it out. The movie is brought to you my the peeps who did Dude, Where's my Car. A small joke that runs through the movie. Other than that I am doing well. I am excited about school starting and trying desperately to schedule myself, but to my great displeasure it is not working to well. :( I think I might be getting another Friday off so I am going to try to do my campain again and close it up. two adventures, woot! other than that, I am really behind in my writing and I still am no where near ready for ren fest, cloak not done damn my broken sewing machine. But on the bright side Dave took time out of his busy life and IMed me, I feel special. So here is the deal, why do people need propane when it is raining outside, what possible use do they have for a tank of deadly and explosive gas when they can't use it to cook there stakes? Is it some kind of defection, "hey it's raining out, I think I will get propane....that way I beat all the suckers who have to wait in line when it is nice out, hehehe." Well guess what folks, everyone thinks like that, in fact it is usually rare for people to get their tanks filled, when it is nice out side, only when they run out and come to the store complaining that they ran out of gas half way through. At this time, when some old man, wearing a kiss the cook apron approaches me with metal spatula in hand ranting about prices and how much of a pain it is to wait the two minutes for the tank to fill. There are generally two thoughts running through my head. 1) why not just plan ahead and get it before you need it, tank gadges are cheep! 2) why grill with propane in the first place, obviously charcoal is so much better, and yo get a better flavor. at least if you know how to grill. But I just smile and nod and let them think they are right, just like when they complain about the price of cigarettes. how asinine is that?

Hark! Can you hear the horn blow?

2004-07-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

Ok, Ok, less like horns and more like bagpipes...I just wish I remembered some of those crazy lyrics. I am working at SA now, but it's for the same company, go figure, and I am liking the slack job. All the merchandise is a scanned and registers are touch screens. Nice huh, yeah, and there's no counting change, it comes out in an automatic dispenser. the easy life. Though it is busy, and the little punks that come in piss me off. I just don't understand, where is the ghetto of White Bear and why does Elvis sing about one? Any way, new job, new girl, and new start date. Yeah why does school have to start so soon? So here it is... I am pumped about this. She, Lindsey, likes quoting office space and spaceballs. She was a major help in cleaning while I was running my company, (which as a side note went very well but I wasn't as prepared like I should have been.) She is always excited about gaming on Friday, and she total digs me. Yes, this is cool. Oh and she's a really good rp'er, really gets into the characters. So I bored you about work, school and Lindsey I think the next thing is ren fest witch will be at the bottom of every post in a section called R.F.U. or Ren Fest Updates. As far as updates are concerned I don't have any at the moment. I don't know if I told ya'll that I did a little leg work and the weekend after school is labor day weekend, which has spaghetti eating contests. Yet I think it might be better suited to moved to the week after reason 1) free beer! reason 2) look to reason 1. And finally I think we might all be a bit driven out, and the daunting 6 hour drive one way might be a little much that first weekend. Please give me some feed back. --Fly Free--

I knew it!

2004-07-22T12:18:00.000-07:00

So tomorrow is the big night. My first adventure in at least three months. I am excited though a little nervous. None of the dungeons are finished or even started. The NPC and monster charts are far from done and on top of it all I only have about 2/3 of my general out line. But, it doesn't matter. I really just want to make this world really special even if it is only one night. I am also planning on making some food. Well, a lot of food. fried rice, general suo's and wantons. enough to feed an army of davises. Well, not that much.
I hope all of your gaming sessions are happy ones. -fly free-

It's About Time

2004-07-19T22:12:00.000-07:00

So I finnanlly grew some balls and dumped my girlfriend. Less then a week later I start kinda-going out with another. I am surprised to say this but I am actilly happy to be doing it. She will listen to me rant aobut the Orog for hours on end and is really getting into D in general. I don't know what it is but I think it's better to be with a person who has simmilar intrests rather then borring you to death about horses. If I ever see or hear about another horse it will be too soon. The plus side though, school starts soon and I am almost done at the gas station, yeay! Tell me, is it just where I work or does it happen everywhere?

The deal is this...When ever it rains, or it's about to rain we get bussy. I mean just swamped! I can understand how a light sprinkle wouldn't necesaraly discourage getting gass, but I don't see how a tourentail down pour would encourage it any. It would make sence to me that if it is raining cats and dogs, for lack of a better expretion, that you would decide, "hey I need gas, but I can get it latter when it is dryer and I can see where I am going." but no, people just keep comming. Weird people, the people that you would rather not be stuck with for more than a minute but might be because they choose the stupidest time to get gas or a bag of M&M's. Candy is good and all but having crazy torential-rain-loving people and employees who would like to strangle these people stuck in the same building do to posablility of a tornato or flood is a bad Idea. Do you know what store polocy is on that, we go to the bath room. I think I rather be outside and take my chances with the weather. At least the weather will never start to talk to you about horses.

Ren Fest

2004-07-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

So I got this email the other day from my other blog, the one I forgot existed. About how I got a comment from Gwen, whom I could never forget. Though I have tried so hard. She keeps sending comments asking about Ren Fest. Though instead of addressing the issue I just whine about my What-was-once-but-not-quite-X Girlfriend. I enjoy messing with Gwen but she does bring up a good point. I still don't know the date we are planning to go. She, by the way, is planning to be there the last day, a good day to avoid. And how many are we planning to go, and are we still all crashing at my place? Things that concern me. So if somebody could let me know I will probably send out a mass emailing as well. other than that
Fly Free :D

I Got Something To Say!

2004-07-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

While I know the inception of the blog was not necessary I also know that might come in hand down the road. That being said, hello all and welcome. Please do not be alarmed and we will get along fine.

This blog has two purposes:
The first being a point of organization across the state of Minnesota. To help me keep in contact and allowing me to bring up points here that I would be otherwise too afraid to elsewhere.

The second being a place to let me vent, and check my spelling. I like everyone else have trying days and even though most people are content with keeping this trivial details inside I feel the need to share

That being said thank you all and welcome, I hope we can have fun together.