The exodus is here…

I crossed the line with what was said two posts ago. Things have been building up , and I’ve kinda fucking lost it. Now, I’m not psycho, nor am I dangerous, I’ve lost it in more of a ‘High Fidelity’ way.

“I kinda lost it all. faith, dignity and about 15 pounds.”

Take me back to an age of innocence.

I’m listening to “Southside” by Moby (feat. that blonde bitch) on repeat. Have been for a while. It brings me back to a time before bullshit. Before knowledge, before real life happened. It’s funny how we crave the past and cling to it trying to capture some lost youth. I just want to be naive again. Because I don’t think anyone likes the truth.

It’s kinda gone downhill.

The last few post have been quite… how do the French say it again? Ah yes, they sound like they were written by a “douche bag.” There’s a rage burning in me right now. I can’t get any fucking respect or any support. I ask the girl that I’ve had feelings for the last year out, and get turned down. That’s fine. I can handle it, it just hurts, which I can handle. So I begin to ramble on to myself in the mirror in my bi-polar-esque way. What comes out sounded pretty cool. So I figured I’d write it all down. Doing so I came to realize that it was 6:00 in the morning and I had a cast of characters and about 4 pages written of a script.

I was damned proud of it. So, here I am, excited over what I’ve created and there is no thought in my mind of the rejection. Coming to the conclusion, that even though I have no experience in any of the fields I’m going to finish the script, Direct it and Act in it. I mean, what the fuck? It’ll never end up in any theaters, but hey, at least I could have created something that I could be proud of. You know accomplished something meaningful to me. Then this fucking asshole decides that I’m a fucking idiot, who can’t do fuck all. Because, everything I do is wrong! I’m an idiot! I suck! I’m a fucking piece of shit!

Well fuck you!

Goddamnit, I’m in a frenzy right now that has my face in a permanent sneer. So after being laughed at and pulled apart by someone who apparently doesn’t give a shit about what I have to speak out, I begin a conversation with the girl that I love.

Well holy fuck. It’s a nice conversation, you know? I’m not pissed about being rejected, in fact I had expected it, I just needed to ask for the sake of my sanity. Then she mentions something that we discussed before.

My words: “No offence, but I really don’t want to fucking hear about it.”

Why is that? Well, that’s because it pains me, I’m not being facetious, I’m protecting myself. Apparently protecting myself from emotional pain makes me a monster. She doesn’t deserve this and I shouldn’t be this way to her. All I fucking said was that I didn’t want to talk about it.

Fine. I’m an asshole, so don’t forgive me, don’t give me a chance to be myself, just expect me to be the way you want me to be. She’s the Venus flytrap and I’m the fly. Except I know that the thing that I covet is possibly not exactly the best call. Does this stop me from wanting and aching for it? No, because it just is. I don’t question it anymore, there’s no point, it’s like the rising and setting sun, it’s just there everyday.

I never wanted this place to be my outlet for personal happenings, and that will be changed soon. I just want my sense of humour back.

… mark deux

I think I might be done with this blog. I feel like shit and I didn’t sleep last night. Spent all night writing what’s probably going to turn into either a movie script of a television script. Will it ever get made? Fuck no. I don’t have the ambition.

Because you know, ambition can be a tricky thing…

…

…

She fucks me up. I don’t get that, it goes against my stoic nature. I need somethibg to get my mind off of the same subject that can’t seem to leave it for the last year.

Huh.

I think that the post below this one is the single most honest moment in my life. Never been that honest with myself before. Interesting, does mean that this blogger needs a smoke? In the opinion of this blogger – Most definitely yes.

The future of intelligent media.

Blogging is now apparently really hot shit these days. But then again, you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this. Now it seems that blogging is to become a new form of media one that might one day “replace mainstream news sources such as television and newspaper.”

That’s nice, but I could care less.

Certainly it’s fascinating that this a bold new frontier of freedom of expression [To a certain extent, I did censor myself, but only because I was told to…………….]

Ok. Breaking topic here, well get back to “the future of blogging” in a bit.

I. Censored. Myself. [Insert various blasphemous statements here] And I can’t even say why because this form is no longer pure for me. I write posts, sometimes post them, but then realize “shit, so-and-so reads this, and I care about them and I fear their view of me, better change this around.”

I can’t even go on about how much fun I’ve been having with certain so-and-so [see? censored!]lately because she reads this too! Why? BECAUSE I SENT HER THE URL! Can I speak of my “less-than-honourable” intents? No! I even sent my fucking mother the URL for God’s sake! Now, I’m less afraid of pissing off or offending my mom for many reasons:

She’ll love me no matter what

She lives 3 hours away by car

I’m my own person
Now this doesn’t mean that I would ever go out of my way to hurt her, or anyone else for that matter, what this means is, I don’t want to get a phone call some evening with my mother crying at the other end about the blasphemy that has damned me to hell. [I’d rather spend eternity in hell than with fucko upstairs – for example] And I’m not belittling her opinion or the level with which I respect her and all the shit she had to go through raising me by herself. She did a good job, but sometimes I worry that I’m not what she wanted me to end up as, or that I’m not living up to her standards, I don’t want to let her down.

But I know I have. And that I have to live with.

Also I can’t talk about any interpersonal relationships I’ve had, or the one that I want to have. Shit most of this post is bordering on the subtle teen angst that abounds many blogs. In short, if you still read this Angie – Fuck you! You’re goddamned right I’m full of angst, but I’ve earned this angst, I fucking earned the emotional damage that keeps me from sleeping at night. My cure? Nicotine and caffeine, these placebo pills are something I draw a lot of needless attention to, why? Because they are my cement shoes. I enjoy smoking, as I’ve said it’s become a part of my personality, because it’s my way of not having to face myself.

“Man, I’m feeling a little nervous, why, that must mean that I need a smoke!”

Every choice in my life has been wrought by fear. Fear or stupidity, it’s kind of a toss up between the two.

This used to be my little corner where I could run naked in front of a crowd of people whose faces I did not know, but now those faces have become familiar. And this is damaging the writ.

[/END tangent]

Now back to the regular broadcast of the future of blogging, which that tangent touched on, if you can read between the lines. Basically, I don’t give a damn about the future of blogging or the shape it will take. This is my small slice of the pie, and if people want to use theirs as a personal whine-fest or an “impartial” take on world events, I’m fine with that.

You know what? Fuck it, I’m going to be completely honest in here from now on. I don’t care anymore. I just hope I have it in me to life up to that vow.

The Good Colonel.

I added the The Good Colonel to the “linkage” bar.

Jesus Shaves

Questioning authority is our duty.

It’s the job of mankind to question everything. Otherwise what’s the point to living? If we can’t question, we can’t try to look for more than what’s at the surface, what’s this life for? To obey? To give up free will? We must create thought and discussion. In this thought creation people will be offended, they will be appalled at the audacity of the ones that dare to question. DOes it make the one’s that question and strive for more purpose evil? No. It makes them human.

There are always things that we want that don’t go with what may be considered the “right thing.” Does it make those things that we want wrong? No.

Understand why they say high school never ends.

It’s funny how things can end up throwing up the pistol into the mind of youth. It’s all repression and digression, like a segregated machine man from the gears of sanity. Must remind the truth of it’s self and show the eclipse of mental separation to the light of the moon. It’s the search for the meaning of life and the pursuit of a method of madness. Pure search of the dark depths of imagination. The Dream Life.