bullshit, sideshow, three ring circus
The danger of becoming misologists, he replied, which is one of the very worst things that can happen to us. For as there are misanthropists or haters of men, there are also misologists or haters of ideas, and both spring from the same cause, which is ignorance of the world. Misanthropy arises from the too great confidence of inexperience;--you trust a man and think him altogether true and good and faithful, and then in a little while he turns out to be false and knavish, and then another and another, and when this has happened several times to a man, especially within the circle of his own most trusted friends, as he deems them, and he has often quarrelled with them, he at last hates all men, and believes that no one has any good in him at all.
why am i not surprised.
how do wee wee do.
been some time, been blasting rats and sassing frats.
been trusting myself less and less and putting too much credence into pop culture. nasty way to live. like a gentile. speaking of credence i met an interesting iranian man in the middle eastern section of borders bookstore. he was telling me that chomsky, for a jew, had very good poise on presenting issues factually and fairly to those confused about the state of the world. hes not so much what im talking about, im talking about the kid at the cash register. my mom and i were talkin bout truth, and this kid writes the name of a book "the awakening intelligence" on my receipt and tells me its all about truth. im not really that interested in that tho. the iranian was much cooler. something about how people initially perceive people. clown johsnon at the register starts peddling his ego.
its more about drawing, less about pushing. in some weird heterosnakesual way. its like saying, im not a misologist, im not a misanthropist, and being an american. its like food and fireflies. they aint hungry.
but about the pop culture. i saw lost in translation and i think its stupid. i like bill murray, but coppola has shit on the brains. those emotions are on the way out, so i could see how those close to such feelings would warm to them and hold them fucking tight. thats the way we work, only love something when its near the end.
but fuck, seriously. life is good and precious and all but ive got too much to worry about right now (ie my own survival) to bother understanding my emotions. instead of partitioning it out equallly i just focus it on one thing, when i have the time. this way i can get work done and like something a whole bunch, when i have the time.
chris said he made a post and tore himself apart letting his ego bash his id and vice versa. that sounds goddamn awesome. maybe not so much in the context of chris's life, but just in general. i know he played xenogears for a bit. and how you dont even know how much youd like a story like that.
ive been listening to tool and mix tapes. some jamiroquai. drank some whiskey the other nite, if thats pop culture. thing with whiskey, for me, is like going to the bottom of a pool and sticking your head in the center drain, then the harder you pull to get up the further down you get. pinned, folks. you can be like, oh, the bottom of the bin is gross, these thoughts are irrational and stupid. then when you think of the good stuff it gets infected. horrible way the mind works, if your down and out keep the good things out of your head, im telling you as a friend.
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Monday, September 29, 2003
Thursday, September 25, 2003
I own a Playstation 2 and a Gamecube. Those machines offer all up all kinds of hi-tech games. Cutting edge graphics. 3D and shit. So why have I dedicated more time to playing old 256 color King's Quest games than anything on those platforms? Or, should I say... why have I dedicated my time to watching Marissa hover over my PC monitor? (i'll explain that portion later)
Why? Because those games were good. Fuck graphics. They were clever. They easily immersed you into the scenery. Slightly challenging but of the mind-numbing sort, not thumb numbing. I've mentioned Tierra about 12 times on the blog already, so this will be the 2nd to last.. but please go ahead and waste a few hours roaming around Daventry on their behalf. It's worth it, I promise.
I've taken to trying to pick up original copies of the later King's Quest games, namely 5 and 6, on E-Bay, even though I've heard some complaints about their sound not working properly on Windows ME... I'll deal with that later. Nostalgia first, logic second. I might even download the incredibly sucky King's Quest 8 demo somewhere.. i mean, why the fuck not? Anything worth doing is worth doing right.
OK, back to Marissa. Ever since I described my geeky obsession with old-skool adventure games to her she seemed a bit interested in checking out what I was talking about. I threw Tierra's King's Quest 1 (ok, that was the last time) remake up on my screen the other day and within minutes she had taken over my PC desk putting me in the passice co-pilot position. While I've helped her a little bit along the way (i mean who ever really guessed on their own to spell Rumplestiltskin backwards for Christ's sake?) for the most part she's been on it like Shakespeare and a sonnet. This is exciting to me. Excitingly geeky. Geekingly sexy.
Ugh, I'm obviously insane.
On a completely different note, I went to see Miss Saigon last night. And despite the whole dialogue in song thing and overly homosexual lead character (who was supposed to be a US soldier in 'Nam) I enjoyed it. Gasp.
Why? Because those games were good. Fuck graphics. They were clever. They easily immersed you into the scenery. Slightly challenging but of the mind-numbing sort, not thumb numbing. I've mentioned Tierra about 12 times on the blog already, so this will be the 2nd to last.. but please go ahead and waste a few hours roaming around Daventry on their behalf. It's worth it, I promise.
I've taken to trying to pick up original copies of the later King's Quest games, namely 5 and 6, on E-Bay, even though I've heard some complaints about their sound not working properly on Windows ME... I'll deal with that later. Nostalgia first, logic second. I might even download the incredibly sucky King's Quest 8 demo somewhere.. i mean, why the fuck not? Anything worth doing is worth doing right.
OK, back to Marissa. Ever since I described my geeky obsession with old-skool adventure games to her she seemed a bit interested in checking out what I was talking about. I threw Tierra's King's Quest 1 (ok, that was the last time) remake up on my screen the other day and within minutes she had taken over my PC desk putting me in the passice co-pilot position. While I've helped her a little bit along the way (i mean who ever really guessed on their own to spell Rumplestiltskin backwards for Christ's sake?) for the most part she's been on it like Shakespeare and a sonnet. This is exciting to me. Excitingly geeky. Geekingly sexy.
Ugh, I'm obviously insane.
On a completely different note, I went to see Miss Saigon last night. And despite the whole dialogue in song thing and overly homosexual lead character (who was supposed to be a US soldier in 'Nam) I enjoyed it. Gasp.
Monday, September 22, 2003
I just quit smoking. I think. For good this time. Yeah.
I've done this many times before. Once, in fact, for an entire year. I woke up from a long night of drinking and smoking like a fiend and felt so terrible that it caused me to chuck my half-full pack of Marlboro Lights onto a city sidewalk in disgust.
My most recent relapse came for no real reason at all. I vaguely remember being at a strip club and having a cigarette placed behind my ear, but that's neither here nor there. The point is that recently I've been smoking sort of regularly (more regularly on the weekends) and it hasn't really bothered me all that much. I've been relatively lazy in terms of physical fitness and haven't really challenged my lungs with much more than sitting at a desk for eight hours a day or berating people on a microphone (jobs #1 and #2, respectively). That all changed yesterday, however, when I played my first game for the new club soccer team I've joined. We were short three players (8 total) and they were a full squad +3 (14 total). We played three back, three midfielders, and one forward. Regardless of our positions we were all more or less all over the goddamn field for the full 70 minutes of play time. Sometime before the beginning of the first-half I walked over to the sidelines and dry-heaved. My lungs felt like they were bleeding from the inside. From the ages 6-18 I played soccer pretty much 6/7 days a week regardless of the season and never remember feeling like this.
So that is why I just quit smoking. I think. For good this time. Yeah.
Oh yeah, we won 3-2. Last two goals came off of my assists. If I were you I'd prepare for a game by game rundown for the entirity of the season. So either avoid Monday posts or embrace them, depending on your feelings toward this one. --
I've done this many times before. Once, in fact, for an entire year. I woke up from a long night of drinking and smoking like a fiend and felt so terrible that it caused me to chuck my half-full pack of Marlboro Lights onto a city sidewalk in disgust.
My most recent relapse came for no real reason at all. I vaguely remember being at a strip club and having a cigarette placed behind my ear, but that's neither here nor there. The point is that recently I've been smoking sort of regularly (more regularly on the weekends) and it hasn't really bothered me all that much. I've been relatively lazy in terms of physical fitness and haven't really challenged my lungs with much more than sitting at a desk for eight hours a day or berating people on a microphone (jobs #1 and #2, respectively). That all changed yesterday, however, when I played my first game for the new club soccer team I've joined. We were short three players (8 total) and they were a full squad +3 (14 total). We played three back, three midfielders, and one forward. Regardless of our positions we were all more or less all over the goddamn field for the full 70 minutes of play time. Sometime before the beginning of the first-half I walked over to the sidelines and dry-heaved. My lungs felt like they were bleeding from the inside. From the ages 6-18 I played soccer pretty much 6/7 days a week regardless of the season and never remember feeling like this.
So that is why I just quit smoking. I think. For good this time. Yeah.
Oh yeah, we won 3-2. Last two goals came off of my assists. If I were you I'd prepare for a game by game rundown for the entirity of the season. So either avoid Monday posts or embrace them, depending on your feelings toward this one. --
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Since I obviously don't have anything interesting to say, it'd serve you well to check out the newly linked egofamine blog. It's the creation of a friend of mine who has gone by the names jonathan, jon, jonny k, and j-kizzle fo shizzle (ok, i made that one up) in the years that I've known him. I've heard that he lives in Harlem now, which makes him a pretty bad-ass mothafucka in my book. Don't let his post about cell phones fool you, this guy's all thug. Bling-Bling and whatnot. Gold Teef. --
Monday, September 15, 2003
I'm convinced that google is the computer system that will one day take down humanity. Before paul started posting to the website recently the ads at the top featured music related items and music magazine subscriptions. Now however, the ads feature headlines like "meditate deeply as a monk" with sub-heads reading an "eclectic selection of wisdom texts, Rare incense, candles, dharma items". Frightening.
I still haven't played those Tierra games. Verizon claims that my DSL line will be alive and kicking on the homefront tonight, so hopefully I'll be able to divulge then. Just in time for school, of course.
I played video games the other night for the first time in god knows how long. Jimmy and I tried a little two-player Ikaruga on for size and then took it old-skool for a little but of Monkey Ball 2 love. I just barely edged him out in Monkey Target but he handed my ass to me in Monkey Fight. I'm sure we would've tried another mini-game on for size to break the tie if it wasn't ass o'clock in the goddamn morning.
I enjoyed my weekend with Jimmy and Toni. Lots of shopping. New My Morning Jacket, Constantines, and Q and Not U records for myself, Mr. Show and Family Guy DVD's for Jimbo, as well as the hilarious Vice Guide to Sex, Drugs, and Rock-N-Roll, and Blind Melon's greatest hits and the new Constantine's (she copied me) record for Toni. When friends take the time drive all the way up from Jersey to visit me I like to try and show them the best time possible. I don't know if I succeeded this weekend, but I sure hope that they felt that the time they had was worth the 4 hour trip there and back.
On Saturday we bussed it to Cambridge to check out Lost In Translation. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the film. It was fairly uneventful, but left me with the sweet feeling of going unwillingly on vacation with your parents at the age of 15 and finding yourself a nice little crush in the same situation as you. Maybe you hang out with her. Maybe you don't. Maybe all you get is a sweet little smile on the way to breakfast every morning. Despite those details, it's still a memory that resides in the back of your mind only to to be conjured up on days when the air smells a certain way or the sun is shining at a similar intensity. These memories aren't life altering by any means, but for one reason or another they stick with you forever. A+, in my opinion.
In addition to that, My Bloody Valentine's Kevin Shields provided an amazing score that worked perfectly with the setting of the film. Including 'Sometimes', my favorite MBV song at one of the pivotal moments of the movie certainly didn't hurt either. --
I still haven't played those Tierra games. Verizon claims that my DSL line will be alive and kicking on the homefront tonight, so hopefully I'll be able to divulge then. Just in time for school, of course.
I played video games the other night for the first time in god knows how long. Jimmy and I tried a little two-player Ikaruga on for size and then took it old-skool for a little but of Monkey Ball 2 love. I just barely edged him out in Monkey Target but he handed my ass to me in Monkey Fight. I'm sure we would've tried another mini-game on for size to break the tie if it wasn't ass o'clock in the goddamn morning.
I enjoyed my weekend with Jimmy and Toni. Lots of shopping. New My Morning Jacket, Constantines, and Q and Not U records for myself, Mr. Show and Family Guy DVD's for Jimbo, as well as the hilarious Vice Guide to Sex, Drugs, and Rock-N-Roll, and Blind Melon's greatest hits and the new Constantine's (she copied me) record for Toni. When friends take the time drive all the way up from Jersey to visit me I like to try and show them the best time possible. I don't know if I succeeded this weekend, but I sure hope that they felt that the time they had was worth the 4 hour trip there and back.
On Saturday we bussed it to Cambridge to check out Lost In Translation. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the film. It was fairly uneventful, but left me with the sweet feeling of going unwillingly on vacation with your parents at the age of 15 and finding yourself a nice little crush in the same situation as you. Maybe you hang out with her. Maybe you don't. Maybe all you get is a sweet little smile on the way to breakfast every morning. Despite those details, it's still a memory that resides in the back of your mind only to to be conjured up on days when the air smells a certain way or the sun is shining at a similar intensity. These memories aren't life altering by any means, but for one reason or another they stick with you forever. A+, in my opinion.
In addition to that, My Bloody Valentine's Kevin Shields provided an amazing score that worked perfectly with the setting of the film. Including 'Sometimes', my favorite MBV song at one of the pivotal moments of the movie certainly didn't hurt either. --
Friday, September 12, 2003
11:49 PM 9/11/2003
on nights like this i know where to find you...
been obsessed with the crusades lately. interesting stuff. too bad school has started...
ah, you think. so far i have discussed the crusades in more than one class. seems to be a hot topic. alternatively my brother got an invite from the demolay youth group organization, which is odd.
my classes go like this, philosophy, american environment, multicultural lit, spanish renaissance lit, bio. nast-eeee. almost done, soon i will be able to live in squalor and have more kids than i can feed. ill beat them, cause theres no test to take to make sure i wont. plus, i can establish firm ideas of subordination - early.
i was talking to somone at some point about general human populations coming upon discoveries at generally the same time. i see it as a spout of human being we all drink from. in terms of sense of self and mans general grasp of whats whos and hows.
the air is at that crisp point. makes things crisp? put down my cat.
on nights like this i know where to find you...
been obsessed with the crusades lately. interesting stuff. too bad school has started...
ah, you think. so far i have discussed the crusades in more than one class. seems to be a hot topic. alternatively my brother got an invite from the demolay youth group organization, which is odd.
my classes go like this, philosophy, american environment, multicultural lit, spanish renaissance lit, bio. nast-eeee. almost done, soon i will be able to live in squalor and have more kids than i can feed. ill beat them, cause theres no test to take to make sure i wont. plus, i can establish firm ideas of subordination - early.
i was talking to somone at some point about general human populations coming upon discoveries at generally the same time. i see it as a spout of human being we all drink from. in terms of sense of self and mans general grasp of whats whos and hows.
the air is at that crisp point. makes things crisp? put down my cat.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
The new Decemberists album isn't quite exactly what I expected. It's very much not chock full o' fall anthems like I hoped it would be, but it is still very, very excellent. Los Angeles, I'm Yours reminds me of this weird 80's music that I saw in a porno film when I was way too young to have seen a porno film. Ahh, warm fuzzy memories. I've put my hopes into the new Shins record to provide me with those chilly / cool fall anthems I'm looking for, however, if it doesn't deliver in that area i'll certainly accept a pleasant surprise like Her Majesty, The Decemberists.
Jimmy, whom we still haven't figured out how to sign on to this weblog, will be making one of his infamous Boston appearances this weekend, which is always exciting. I've taken Saturday off from work (my first day off in God knows how long) and am eagerly anticipating whatever the hell him and the still kinda fuzzy cast of characters that he's bringing along with him bring forth. I'll be sure to comment after the dust settles.
Still haven't checked out those Tierra games yet. --
Jimmy, whom we still haven't figured out how to sign on to this weblog, will be making one of his infamous Boston appearances this weekend, which is always exciting. I've taken Saturday off from work (my first day off in God knows how long) and am eagerly anticipating whatever the hell him and the still kinda fuzzy cast of characters that he's bringing along with him bring forth. I'll be sure to comment after the dust settles.
Still haven't checked out those Tierra games yet. --
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
This might be old news to some people, but I've just been turned on to the creations of a small software company called Tierra Entertainment that very well might be the kindest group of individuals on the face of this earth. For exactly zero dollars in monetary compensation they are taking the time to remake the old Sierra adventure games like King's Quest and Quest for Glory. I haven't been able to spend much time poking around their website, nevermind downloading the games they've released so far, but the fact that someone out there remembers these games as fondly as I do is amazing to hear. The fact that they have the talent to update and release them to the public is even more amazing! It's games like King's Quest, Space Quest, and Police Quest that turned me onto computers in the first place... and anyone who knows me knows how are essential they are to my life. They help me pay the rent and help me bide my idle time. I really can't wait to see what these guys have done with these games... I feel like I'm 13 again. --
Friday, September 05, 2003
Oh yeah. My friend Jonathan from Jersey somehow mysteriously made his way to my burned down apartment and took a few snapshots of it. I'm still not entirely sure how this all happened, as we haven't caught each other online much lately.... but here's one for your perusal:
* my burned down ghetto apartment
I have a bunch more that I took from inside that I'll get around to posting eventually. Have a good weekend.
* my burned down ghetto apartment
I have a bunch more that I took from inside that I'll get around to posting eventually. Have a good weekend.
Looks like some outsiders have begun to stumble upon this little website again. Excellent.
I'm more or less completely moved into my new place in the South End. I haven't spent much time there
yet as I've been working like a freakin' dog at one of my three jobs ever since the beginning of the
month. I'm happy to say that it's the most amazing place that I have ever lived in, though. I love
home, don't get me wrong - but it's hard to compete with a 4th floor apartment in one of Boston's
nicest neighborhoods, a spacious bedroom with brick walls, and a decent little view of Mass Ave without
the noise. I suppose anything would've been better than the pile of trash I lived in on Mission Hill,
but my roommates and I have really struck gold with our new place. Chalk one point up to the kid who's
had his car totaled, apartment broken into, and then subsequently burned down all within the past few
months.
Summer looks like it's gone for good and I couldn't be happier about it. While I had my fair share of
piss-poor luck since memorial day I've escaped with a new sense of overwhelming happiness. Right now
everything is as it should be. The weather's crisp and comfortable in Boston. I've broken out the
sweaters and I'm drinking hot coffee again. My apartment is a mere three minute walk from Marissa's.
I've begun working for my former employer once again and smile on my little 15 minute trek through
downtown to get here everyday. Long after I am through with this place, I will have fond memories of
it and directly equate it with the beginning of my "career" and Boston. I suppose Jan. 1 starts the new
year, but I think most 22 year old and below minds see early fall as the real new beginning. Take hold
ladies and gents, it's all happening.
Don't forget to pick up the new Decemberists album on tuesday. My gut tells me that it will be the
perfect anthem for early fall. Paul says Modest Mouse's new drummer has ruined the band. I'd seek out
some MP3's but I'm still internet-less at home and have no sound card here at the office. I suppose I'll find out eventually. --
I'm more or less completely moved into my new place in the South End. I haven't spent much time there
yet as I've been working like a freakin' dog at one of my three jobs ever since the beginning of the
month. I'm happy to say that it's the most amazing place that I have ever lived in, though. I love
home, don't get me wrong - but it's hard to compete with a 4th floor apartment in one of Boston's
nicest neighborhoods, a spacious bedroom with brick walls, and a decent little view of Mass Ave without
the noise. I suppose anything would've been better than the pile of trash I lived in on Mission Hill,
but my roommates and I have really struck gold with our new place. Chalk one point up to the kid who's
had his car totaled, apartment broken into, and then subsequently burned down all within the past few
months.
Summer looks like it's gone for good and I couldn't be happier about it. While I had my fair share of
piss-poor luck since memorial day I've escaped with a new sense of overwhelming happiness. Right now
everything is as it should be. The weather's crisp and comfortable in Boston. I've broken out the
sweaters and I'm drinking hot coffee again. My apartment is a mere three minute walk from Marissa's.
I've begun working for my former employer once again and smile on my little 15 minute trek through
downtown to get here everyday. Long after I am through with this place, I will have fond memories of
it and directly equate it with the beginning of my "career" and Boston. I suppose Jan. 1 starts the new
year, but I think most 22 year old and below minds see early fall as the real new beginning. Take hold
ladies and gents, it's all happening.
Don't forget to pick up the new Decemberists album on tuesday. My gut tells me that it will be the
perfect anthem for early fall. Paul says Modest Mouse's new drummer has ruined the band. I'd seek out
some MP3's but I'm still internet-less at home and have no sound card here at the office. I suppose I'll find out eventually. --
Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
to take anything seriously is to give life the handicap, do not let it know you are weak. --i guess this is a failed email or a meditation on garbage bags... i received it as a piece of spam at an odd hour, so why not share.... enjoy
the ones who truly aspire are those who give up the struggle of the hunt. the lust for discovery. those who never experience the extent of their own understanding. this occult is unintentionally concerned with anything overtly worldly, it harbors a selfishness intent on embracing mediocrity through the blind acceptance of ideals they perceive as too difficult to meditate upon and unusually comfortable enough to arouse suspicion. however, many will refuse to believe that a conscious repression of such base (yet oddly human) impulses leads to a subconscious (or sometimes conscious) manifestation of said function masquerading as inebriation or a sober clarity so seemingly removed from whomever divined the emotions that it must be extraordinaly fantastic.
true moments of inspiration may occur when events outside the mind's realm of understanding lead to bitter self assessment. this sort of scrutiny holds your hand on a tour through a largely negative and unknowingly impulsive state of mind which must be understood for what it is before taken seriously. the demon is born when the spirit is weak, asserting its heaviest influence during the heat of the moment, when the mind is either exhausted, depraved, or despairing. it freely choreographs the present state of mind to perceive all life through a lens at once genuine and passionately bitter. to get lost in the emotions of a single incident in time (to hold your own thoughts in such regard you eventually become defensive of them, and possibly conceal them) is to foolishly, selfishly, and ignorantly render your being as an entity permanent and super-natural in a world that endlessly fails to learn that time inevitably renders us all fools. some are prone to believing this is permanent, unwavering and accurate. (which is more often than not the sad sappy truth) as is usually the case however, the mind fixes such inverse spikes of personal orientation through means hardly recognizable. (satiation from consumption, fornication, rest, expulsion, bouts of harmless mania, and mindless indulgence... in essence, the symbols encountered in everyday life designed to inspire comfort, relief and respite) this all being the result of cancerous, pseudo-communal practices which subconsciously decieve (through half baked media exposure) the populous into understanding that we live in a world of excess. one who does not -have- will/can/and has survived on the sympathy of others.
yo
i guess we didnt finish our conversation or i just feel like talking more.
in terms of whatever it is i have going now, for the interested, it is not easy on the mind but it is not altogether something terrible. all it took was like a half-relationship and a couple nites out at bars to realize how things generally are. id like to say i am beyond those observations and "an exception to the rule" but that would most likely be false.
i guess first of all, over anything anyone has said or will say, i hold the self in the highest regard. i passionately urge myself to believe that when one filters out what is imposed on them by society and focuses on what they quintessentially are they will wake up to this foolish charade we all contribute to. i guess if i establish some base beliefs in something, non-belief maybe, i have some sort of foundation to stand on.
i dont know
i receive testimony from good amount of people who chat recklessly about their situations. as it appears, being in your mid to late twenties in this century, or year is a great burden. as a human, you come to understand certain things about yourself, recognize these things in others, and develop a complex ripe with disillusion.
i was told its impossible to remember everything one knows at a singular moment in time. say, perhaps, you are one of many of lifes great anomalies and you do have this ability. how cursed. every observation, experience and thought you ever had closing in on you and living off you every moment, creating from silly behavior all you do think say and feel. this in mind, why do the masses find peace of mind through eager commitment to emotions which are fundamentally uncertain. parallels exposed regarding life and the strict "grassroots" nature of change are prominent there there and there.
everything is null. is that agnostic? what does that imply. more specifically the stuff above, trash.
the ones who truly aspire are those who give up the struggle of the hunt. the lust for discovery. those who never experience the extent of their own understanding. this occult is unintentionally concerned with anything overtly worldly, it harbors a selfishness intent on embracing mediocrity through the blind acceptance of ideals they perceive as too difficult to meditate upon and unusually comfortable enough to arouse suspicion. however, many will refuse to believe that a conscious repression of such base (yet oddly human) impulses leads to a subconscious (or sometimes conscious) manifestation of said function masquerading as inebriation or a sober clarity so seemingly removed from whomever divined the emotions that it must be extraordinaly fantastic.
true moments of inspiration may occur when events outside the mind's realm of understanding lead to bitter self assessment. this sort of scrutiny holds your hand on a tour through a largely negative and unknowingly impulsive state of mind which must be understood for what it is before taken seriously. the demon is born when the spirit is weak, asserting its heaviest influence during the heat of the moment, when the mind is either exhausted, depraved, or despairing. it freely choreographs the present state of mind to perceive all life through a lens at once genuine and passionately bitter. to get lost in the emotions of a single incident in time (to hold your own thoughts in such regard you eventually become defensive of them, and possibly conceal them) is to foolishly, selfishly, and ignorantly render your being as an entity permanent and super-natural in a world that endlessly fails to learn that time inevitably renders us all fools. some are prone to believing this is permanent, unwavering and accurate. (which is more often than not the sad sappy truth) as is usually the case however, the mind fixes such inverse spikes of personal orientation through means hardly recognizable. (satiation from consumption, fornication, rest, expulsion, bouts of harmless mania, and mindless indulgence... in essence, the symbols encountered in everyday life designed to inspire comfort, relief and respite) this all being the result of cancerous, pseudo-communal practices which subconsciously decieve (through half baked media exposure) the populous into understanding that we live in a world of excess. one who does not -have- will/can/and has survived on the sympathy of others.
yo
i guess we didnt finish our conversation or i just feel like talking more.
in terms of whatever it is i have going now, for the interested, it is not easy on the mind but it is not altogether something terrible. all it took was like a half-relationship and a couple nites out at bars to realize how things generally are. id like to say i am beyond those observations and "an exception to the rule" but that would most likely be false.
i guess first of all, over anything anyone has said or will say, i hold the self in the highest regard. i passionately urge myself to believe that when one filters out what is imposed on them by society and focuses on what they quintessentially are they will wake up to this foolish charade we all contribute to. i guess if i establish some base beliefs in something, non-belief maybe, i have some sort of foundation to stand on.
i dont know
i receive testimony from good amount of people who chat recklessly about their situations. as it appears, being in your mid to late twenties in this century, or year is a great burden. as a human, you come to understand certain things about yourself, recognize these things in others, and develop a complex ripe with disillusion.
i was told its impossible to remember everything one knows at a singular moment in time. say, perhaps, you are one of many of lifes great anomalies and you do have this ability. how cursed. every observation, experience and thought you ever had closing in on you and living off you every moment, creating from silly behavior all you do think say and feel. this in mind, why do the masses find peace of mind through eager commitment to emotions which are fundamentally uncertain. parallels exposed regarding life and the strict "grassroots" nature of change are prominent there there and there.
everything is null. is that agnostic? what does that imply. more specifically the stuff above, trash.
Monday, August 25, 2003
home is confusing.
wayne, nj and the house i grew up in might not be "home" for much longer.
grandpa called today. wants me to come visit him before i leave (not that i wouldn't have anyway) and bring along my brother and sister. he's going in for surgery next week for a clogged artery and i'm scared.
started reading Walden. i've never read before. i'd say the timing is good.
home makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin. i look around and see things that i recognize but i don't really see them through the same eyes anymore. it doesn't make me sad but sometimes the fact that it doesn't make me sad makes me sad.
home is confusing.
wayne, nj and the house i grew up in might not be "home" for much longer.
grandpa called today. wants me to come visit him before i leave (not that i wouldn't have anyway) and bring along my brother and sister. he's going in for surgery next week for a clogged artery and i'm scared.
started reading Walden. i've never read before. i'd say the timing is good.
home makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin. i look around and see things that i recognize but i don't really see them through the same eyes anymore. it doesn't make me sad but sometimes the fact that it doesn't make me sad makes me sad.
home is confusing.
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Goddamnit I just wrote a really long blog entry and accidentally closed Explorer before posting it. In sum: saw the Jealous Sound last night. The night gets an A+ due to their very good but nothing to write home about live show, Toscanini's before the show, an amazing shower after the show, and an amazing shared piece of Dulce di Leche cheesecake in bed before cashing out for the night.
Marissa's gone home for break and I'm still crashing at her place. I'm so lucky to have a place to hang my hat... some of the guys I lived with are sleepin on motel floors and whatnot. Having just started two jobs I don't know what I would've done if I would've had to head back to Jersey all this time.
Apologies for the brevity... but I'm at work... which I'm thinkin' means I should get to work, ya heard?
Marissa's gone home for break and I'm still crashing at her place. I'm so lucky to have a place to hang my hat... some of the guys I lived with are sleepin on motel floors and whatnot. Having just started two jobs I don't know what I would've done if I would've had to head back to Jersey all this time.
Apologies for the brevity... but I'm at work... which I'm thinkin' means I should get to work, ya heard?
Monday, August 18, 2003
Silly of me to not mention what started the fire.
The third floor unit of my building was rented out by 12 irish lads for the summer. There are only three bedrooms in the unit and only 5 people allowed on the lease. Our landlord's an idiot for turning a blind eye and these kids are pretty nasty for living on top of each other like they did. At any rate, these guys hung a neon Bud Light sign on their back porch and left it on 24 hours a day. Apparently it sparked, almost instantly igniting flames to a ratty old couch that they had on their porch which then in no time spread flames to the rest of the house like wild fucking fire. No one was injured, which is cool. What's not cool is that these 12 guys were laughing their asses off the whole time the place was up in flames - singing while the firemen were putting the fire down - and bee-lining it to the bar not long after the scene had settled down.
The fire inspector told us that he made his way up to the 3rd floor unit the morning after and found three of the former residents smoking fucking CRACK up there. Eventually I'll post some pictures from ground zero, as we've begun calling it, and when you see the shape of this apartment you'll see that it couldn't be better fit for mo' fuckin' crack-smoking.
It wasn't the way I wanted it to happen.. but I couldn't be happier to be out of mission hill for good. Read back to my rant from a few weeks ago, combine it with this bullshit, and it's probably easy to see why. Living up there has toughened my skin and taught me some good lessons. But it's also taught me that some people should be dis-allowed from pro-creating. I can't wait to get my ass a diploma. Get a fucking job and get to the fucking suburbs. ... or at least a nice neighborhood in the city.
Anyway, things have settled down for now and I'm doing my best to focus on this week's finals. After that it's home to Jersey for a few days of very much needed relaxation.
On a different note, I went to see Freddy Vs. Jason last night with Marissa, Jeannie, and mah nigga Cray-Z Fo' Sheazy. I enjoyed the intentionally kitschy way that the actors conversed and had a pretty decent overall time watching it. I commend the two ladies for coming out with us despite their reservations. I'm pretty sure Marissa spent more time laughing at Freddy's cheesy lines than being scared, which is good because I was worried that she might not quite love me as much after seeing one of my beloved Freddy movies. It looks like I'm in the clear.
The third floor unit of my building was rented out by 12 irish lads for the summer. There are only three bedrooms in the unit and only 5 people allowed on the lease. Our landlord's an idiot for turning a blind eye and these kids are pretty nasty for living on top of each other like they did. At any rate, these guys hung a neon Bud Light sign on their back porch and left it on 24 hours a day. Apparently it sparked, almost instantly igniting flames to a ratty old couch that they had on their porch which then in no time spread flames to the rest of the house like wild fucking fire. No one was injured, which is cool. What's not cool is that these 12 guys were laughing their asses off the whole time the place was up in flames - singing while the firemen were putting the fire down - and bee-lining it to the bar not long after the scene had settled down.
The fire inspector told us that he made his way up to the 3rd floor unit the morning after and found three of the former residents smoking fucking CRACK up there. Eventually I'll post some pictures from ground zero, as we've begun calling it, and when you see the shape of this apartment you'll see that it couldn't be better fit for mo' fuckin' crack-smoking.
It wasn't the way I wanted it to happen.. but I couldn't be happier to be out of mission hill for good. Read back to my rant from a few weeks ago, combine it with this bullshit, and it's probably easy to see why. Living up there has toughened my skin and taught me some good lessons. But it's also taught me that some people should be dis-allowed from pro-creating. I can't wait to get my ass a diploma. Get a fucking job and get to the fucking suburbs. ... or at least a nice neighborhood in the city.
Anyway, things have settled down for now and I'm doing my best to focus on this week's finals. After that it's home to Jersey for a few days of very much needed relaxation.
On a different note, I went to see Freddy Vs. Jason last night with Marissa, Jeannie, and mah nigga Cray-Z Fo' Sheazy. I enjoyed the intentionally kitschy way that the actors conversed and had a pretty decent overall time watching it. I commend the two ladies for coming out with us despite their reservations. I'm pretty sure Marissa spent more time laughing at Freddy's cheesy lines than being scared, which is good because I was worried that she might not quite love me as much after seeing one of my beloved Freddy movies. It looks like I'm in the clear.
Friday, August 15, 2003
Around 9:00 PM on Wed. night I heard a smoke alarm go off in the entranceway to my apartment building. I went out to see what was wrong and noticed that there was a whole lot more than just one smoke alarm going off. Within what seemed like seconds I was about 50 feet away from my building watching the rear burn out of control. The firemen came fairly quick but the flames took quite some time to put down. I'd never wish standing shoeless on the streets of one of the worst neighborhoods in Boston watching your personal belongings being burned or saturated with water or both on anyone. I'd never wish rummaging through your things in total darkness trying to figure out what the fuck is salvageable and what isn't, either. It's a terrible feeling. I managed to get the things of sentimental value out. Pictures, CD's... but so many other things are lying on the floor in my old bedroom behind boarded up doors and windows. I went back to the building today and there was a sign on the door that read "this property has been condemned and deemed not inhabitable for humans".
These past two days have gone by incredibly quickly. I've been speaking with everyone from the red cross to insurance representatives to god knows who the fuck else trying to figure out exactly what in the hell to do.
Some individuals that I thought would've bent over backwards to help me in a time of need have dissapointed me. Others that I would've never considered to have given a rats ass about me have offered more than I am deserving of. It's funny what it takes sometimes, I guess.
Marissa has allowed me to sort of temporarily move in to her place for a few days before I move into my new apartment Sept 1st and I'd llike to publicly thank her for that here, even though she might say that it's not neccessary. I'm sure I've been not much more than a raving lunatic to live with these past few days and her ability to put up with me is more than impressive.
There's some other interesting and often humorous things that have come along with this little situation of mine.. and I'll be sure to let it flow when I get a chance... but for now, I need some rest. --
These past two days have gone by incredibly quickly. I've been speaking with everyone from the red cross to insurance representatives to god knows who the fuck else trying to figure out exactly what in the hell to do.
Some individuals that I thought would've bent over backwards to help me in a time of need have dissapointed me. Others that I would've never considered to have given a rats ass about me have offered more than I am deserving of. It's funny what it takes sometimes, I guess.
Marissa has allowed me to sort of temporarily move in to her place for a few days before I move into my new apartment Sept 1st and I'd llike to publicly thank her for that here, even though she might say that it's not neccessary. I'm sure I've been not much more than a raving lunatic to live with these past few days and her ability to put up with me is more than impressive.
There's some other interesting and often humorous things that have come along with this little situation of mine.. and I'll be sure to let it flow when I get a chance... but for now, I need some rest. --
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Quickies:
:: Feedback was down a bit this afternoon... apologies to anyone that felt like backing on the feed tip, I think it's all back up and running.
:: I went out last night nearly until last call and realized this morning that I can no longer hang like I used to. Had to skip my AM class. Ugh.
:: I missed working a BCN promotion at tonight's Radiohead show by about five minutes. Ugh again.
:: Paul ruins EVERYTHING - pass it on.
:: Blogging from work doesn't quite bring back warm fuzzy memories of the day I turned in.circles from a run-of-the-mill e-zine to a sub-par weblog like I thought it would.
:: Every two months or so I come dangerously close to purchasing a 30-gig iPod even though I should be putting my dismal funds towards things like food, rent, and bills. I am in one of those "dangerously close" cycles right now. Someone please convince me that iPod's are shite before I find myself taking out a loan using my first born child as equity.
:: I dare you to find tastier iced coffee than Finnagle-A-Bagel's in the Boston area. I double dare you. --
:: Feedback was down a bit this afternoon... apologies to anyone that felt like backing on the feed tip, I think it's all back up and running.
:: I went out last night nearly until last call and realized this morning that I can no longer hang like I used to. Had to skip my AM class. Ugh.
:: I missed working a BCN promotion at tonight's Radiohead show by about five minutes. Ugh again.
:: Paul ruins EVERYTHING - pass it on.
:: Blogging from work doesn't quite bring back warm fuzzy memories of the day I turned in.circles from a run-of-the-mill e-zine to a sub-par weblog like I thought it would.
:: Every two months or so I come dangerously close to purchasing a 30-gig iPod even though I should be putting my dismal funds towards things like food, rent, and bills. I am in one of those "dangerously close" cycles right now. Someone please convince me that iPod's are shite before I find myself taking out a loan using my first born child as equity.
:: I dare you to find tastier iced coffee than Finnagle-A-Bagel's in the Boston area. I double dare you. --
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
howdy do, hello.
my name is el nino, and you better get your coat, cause i came to bring the rain.
hoo ah.
--------------------
i saw modest mouse recently, and was largely disappointed. many things went wrong, too numerous and boring to list, but they are going south further than katherine hepburn, barry white and bob hope. philly is a trash hole, whole heartedly.
i watched eyes wide shut the other day. collectively i have prolly seen it all like 1 and a half times, but this was the first time i watched it (semi) straight through the whole thing. its just like that, you lumber through it. and dont let me forget about the book im reading, speaking of lumbering through. shits tight, A+. ive talked to some folks who have also seen it, and they largely disagree. which i find confusing, cause it seems spot on. things i like: colors, glares, bleeds, nicole kidman. i like how london is portrayed as new york. i like that. why use the city in a piece of fiction as the city setting. you are at your whim to whit and whistle with whatever woozle you troozle. kudos. i like the music, i like the length, and i like the content. i like the passion, i like the jealousy, i like the way people have disturbingly vivid perceptions of human nature, choose to render them to the public, and when all is said and done its like flat and poo, but really bas relief. you f'n c's.
ah, umberto eco. im partially through this book, foucalt's pendulum, and its really fun. like too fun where you have to question why it is so fun. then you deconstruct the thing you think is fun and try to find a flaw, convince yourself of the other sides point of view. apply as much passion to hating it as you did to liking it, and do that with everything, see how much of a fool people can be. id say the book has opened my eyes, turned me into a harder cynic, but then again im just reading words on a page, ya know. what can you do with that. its the inconceivable stuff you gotta worry about. i really wanna talk more about the book ya know, but i havent finished it. all i can really say is jacques de molay. i wish someone would submit me some hardcore research on this guy. there is other stuff too, aleister crowley + napthalene + kundalini... all nonsense if you think about it, but fun nonetheless...
my name is el nino, and you better get your coat, cause i came to bring the rain.
hoo ah.
--------------------
i saw modest mouse recently, and was largely disappointed. many things went wrong, too numerous and boring to list, but they are going south further than katherine hepburn, barry white and bob hope. philly is a trash hole, whole heartedly.
i watched eyes wide shut the other day. collectively i have prolly seen it all like 1 and a half times, but this was the first time i watched it (semi) straight through the whole thing. its just like that, you lumber through it. and dont let me forget about the book im reading, speaking of lumbering through. shits tight, A+. ive talked to some folks who have also seen it, and they largely disagree. which i find confusing, cause it seems spot on. things i like: colors, glares, bleeds, nicole kidman. i like how london is portrayed as new york. i like that. why use the city in a piece of fiction as the city setting. you are at your whim to whit and whistle with whatever woozle you troozle. kudos. i like the music, i like the length, and i like the content. i like the passion, i like the jealousy, i like the way people have disturbingly vivid perceptions of human nature, choose to render them to the public, and when all is said and done its like flat and poo, but really bas relief. you f'n c's.
ah, umberto eco. im partially through this book, foucalt's pendulum, and its really fun. like too fun where you have to question why it is so fun. then you deconstruct the thing you think is fun and try to find a flaw, convince yourself of the other sides point of view. apply as much passion to hating it as you did to liking it, and do that with everything, see how much of a fool people can be. id say the book has opened my eyes, turned me into a harder cynic, but then again im just reading words on a page, ya know. what can you do with that. its the inconceivable stuff you gotta worry about. i really wanna talk more about the book ya know, but i havent finished it. all i can really say is jacques de molay. i wish someone would submit me some hardcore research on this guy. there is other stuff too, aleister crowley + napthalene + kundalini... all nonsense if you think about it, but fun nonetheless...
Sunday, August 10, 2003
I waited so long for summer-like weather and now that it's here I want it to go fuck itself - figuratively, of course... weather couldn't actually go fuck itself now, could it? Seriously, though, what good is summer if there's no goddamned sun?
Despite the thick-as-Arnold's-biceps (ahem) humidity in Boston these past few days I've been enjoying my life. I started new job #1 of 2 on Friday, for WBCN. It doesn't pay a whole lot, but it's fun. New job #2 of 2 starts tomorrow although It's not exactly 100% new. It's actually for the same company that I had my first co-op at three years ago. Only this time out they're paying me a whole lot more than they used to. I think that means I actually have to work now instead of talking to Jimmy on AIM. Sigh.
Aside from work stuff I've been enjoyably spending my time with Marissa, my roommates, and doing little bits of school work. I don't think anything from this past weekend is terribly blog-worthy. I also can't remember a time when I've been so happy with everything. Maybe there's some sort of connection?
Patyankee1 still continues to IM me at the strangest times. Jimmy thinks he's ten years old. Jimmy thinks I'm an asshole.
Remember: humidity, WBCN, bigger paycheck means having to work more, happiness isn't blogworthy, Patyankee1, and Jimmy. (ok, it made me laugh on the lawrence arms site so I figured i'd try it here...) --
Despite the thick-as-Arnold's-biceps (ahem) humidity in Boston these past few days I've been enjoying my life. I started new job #1 of 2 on Friday, for WBCN. It doesn't pay a whole lot, but it's fun. New job #2 of 2 starts tomorrow although It's not exactly 100% new. It's actually for the same company that I had my first co-op at three years ago. Only this time out they're paying me a whole lot more than they used to. I think that means I actually have to work now instead of talking to Jimmy on AIM. Sigh.
Aside from work stuff I've been enjoyably spending my time with Marissa, my roommates, and doing little bits of school work. I don't think anything from this past weekend is terribly blog-worthy. I also can't remember a time when I've been so happy with everything. Maybe there's some sort of connection?
Patyankee1 still continues to IM me at the strangest times. Jimmy thinks he's ten years old. Jimmy thinks I'm an asshole.
Remember: humidity, WBCN, bigger paycheck means having to work more, happiness isn't blogworthy, Patyankee1, and Jimmy. (ok, it made me laugh on the lawrence arms site so I figured i'd try it here...) --
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