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Just got the bad news. Itís going to rain until Saturday. Some of the storms may be severe. Iíve never liked rain and Iíve never understood people that do. I canít find peace under thunderclouds. Lightning never made me calm. Iíve gotten over my general fear of it, but it is still unnerving. Some people need it to live, but I would prefer it if it never rained. Give me blue skies and sunny days. When clouds take over the sky, my mind seeks shelter away from the noise and random flashes of light. I wish it would go away.
The day anew and slightly drunk too! Iím on the brink of breaking my vows and destroying everything Iíve worked for. It only takes a few beers. Life is as good as you make it and as bad as you will it. Not everything is as planned and yet not everything is as bad as predicted. The world will turn no matter how bad your matter has been reconfigured. This is life on the brink. Brought down in your prime as your inhibitions had been hindered. The end is further from the start then you previously anticipated. Peace be plentiful.
I promise never to write drunk again. That just came out like pure garbage. Unless you like that sort of thing. Hmmm, I guess that you canít really tell me, can you? Oh well. So, whatís new with me? Oh! I just joined a band. It seems just about anyone can do that without having any skill at all. If youíre wondering, Iím playing a keyboard that isnít mine. My buddy is letting me borrow it until I can afford my own. Itís a hell of a lot of fun. I think weíre going to be a comedy band. Peaces.
Spent the weekend at a friendís house playing NES for the most part. Sunday is such a lazy day of the week. Plus, in this town itís a dry day. No booze unless you want to splurge in a bar. I donít have the money for that sort of thing so we try our best to stock up on Saturday. I swear Iím not an alcoholic. Honest. Why are you looking at me like that? What are all of those chairs for? Look, itís not like that. I can quit whenever I want. Iím just stressed is all. Douche bag.
While I was away from home, my brother destroyed my electronic typewriter. The Wheelwriter 1000 by Lexmark. Iím sad but not angry. I got it for free and as they say ďEasy come Easy goĒ so, itís no big deal. I just did a bunch of great work on it in the short time we were together. I even wrote a poem about the damn thing. Itís too long to put here, sorry. Now thereís a spider on my keyboard and every letter is a chance to get bitten. It just wonít go away. Iím totally on edge now. Help!
I really should be looking for a job. On top of that, I really should be using this to try working the creative juices instead of making a blog. This is so weak. At least it helps me keep it short. Iím sure most of you will have stopped reading by this entry. Iím not offended. I know itís boring. 61. I canít say Iím going to change my ways from here on, but that would be nice. I feel like Iíve become like all those little sad teens on livejournal. Hai guyz!!1 Iím rly sad now. Cut cut lulz!!!1
Have you ever just put yourself out there? Out in the open for anybody to pull up and engage you? I do sometimes just to see if anybody comes out from the dark and initiates any form of communication. Never. Are we so reserved as a society that we canít even talk to strangers? I know I canít bring myself to do it. So, I just stand outside waiting for someone else to work up the courage. Our walls are so high that we canít even see over them. I can only imagine whatís on the other side. Whatís next?
I feel like Iím coming to a fork in the road of my life. One road leads to everything I want and everything I can ever do that is right and good and the other road is a path to everything I feel like doing and believe I am actually capable of. I know which one I want to take but I feel myself being pulled in the other direction. Is there some way that I can unstick myself from this seemingly inevitable path and become that which is truly great inside of me? I think Iíll just go straight.
I just read something like half a million inspiring quotes about life and peace and being happy, you know, seizing the day and loving every minute of it always in peace and good will. Iím sure there is something else to take from them, but all I get is a feeling that Iím not doing it right because I donít feel like these people being quoted. I guess itís like you had to be there to have that same feeling and then maybe you wouldíve said something like that. Iím sure Iíll forget it all and go back to normal.
Out of cigarettes. Let me wax intellectual on the subject of addiction and the perils of not being financially capable of supporting one. It sucks. Anyway, thereís nothing I can ever say to make you feel like nothing is wrong and everything works out in the end fairy tale bullshit. My goal then would be to find a way to make you lie to yourself and force yourself to believe that itís all good. But, you wouldnít lie to yourself, would you? Always be true to thyself and all that, right? Donít worry, everything is as it should be. Peace.
That made a whole hell of a lot of sense. Crazy bastard just types whatever comes to his head no matter how nonsensical it may be. Maybe he just doesnít care or he simply doesnít know what heís doing. I think, personally, that he has some sort of mental disorder that causes him to vomit random words onto a keyboard and forces everyone to read them and call him a genius. Really though, he is far from anything special. A modern day village idiot. But, damn if he donít at least know how to spell words correctly. Schizophrenic much? Yes?
Hard candy is nowhere near as good as it used to be back in the day, you know? No, I didnít think so. You and I havenít been here that long but we still know way more than our parents did back when they were our age, right? But, theyíre still smarter than us because theyíve seen a lot of shit. Shit we canít even imagine, you know? Iím saying that you got to go out and see these things so you get smarter. Like hard candy; I went back in time and checked it out. So much fucking better.
We are tired. Tired of living the way we have been forced to for far too many years. Tired of the day in day out surveillance and constant enforcement of your rules. Weíve become the exact thing which you have worked tirelessly to keep us from turning into. And itís all your fault. Maybe if youíd given us more freedom or space to be ourselves it wouldnít have come to this. Regardless, weíve decided to change everything. So, weíre taking to the streets, but even with all of your cameras, youíll never see us. Only our work will show. Butthorns!
I lied. I am drunk yet again. Therefore, this post is another false appearance by the elusive informative sage himself, drunken Cheggs. Clint if you honestly wish it. My name and another link to my true life. I prefer it if you didnít care. Which honestly you donít. You know what? Itís much harder to write this drunk. There are just a hundred words and they are too many to fill. Seventy-Three. Everything is, as it should be seen. I canít say that it is, as it should be construed. Life has a way of putting you down. Drunk Cheggs.
I wish I could lie to you again. Yet, here I am rock you like a hurricane. And it appears I canít spell hurricane when I am drunk. You wouldnít notice since I am using spell check. The point is that I am still drunk bouncing off of the same little drunk dialing post that you may or may not have just read. Here it is, I was behind if only for a moment and here I am catching up when I least need to. Here is wisdom: Even when you wish the best, life finds its way to you.
Howís this for a fucked up dream: I was in a sewer just fucking around when Bruce Willis shows up all decked out like a mercenary. Heís telling me all this shit about crazy aliens roaming the city tearing everything up and Iím obviously confused. Suddenly, it turns into an AvP movie, weíre in this strange room with a glass ceiling, and he calls for a helicopter that drops a ladder through the glass. Then the alien comes up and kills him out from nowhere. And, now Iíve lost the rest. Maybe there was nothing more after that. Meaningless dreams.
Itís early in the morning. Around 7:30 a. m. which sucks because I only got about 5 hours of sleep. I guess Iím a little sick. It is a shame that I can say that since I believe that itís all in your head. Sometimes I think that I can hold off a cold just by saying to myself that Iím not sick, itís just a headache nothing to worry about. Then I end up lying on my couch all day in a delirium from the 104 fever Iím slipping into. Nothing to worry about. Cigarettes donít taste good anymore.
Still sick. Sore throat. Summer cold. The worst part isnít even the throbbing head or the runny nose and the dry cracking in my lungs, but the sound of the damn bird in my kitchen screeching away relentlessly at the highest pitches imaginable. For all of the mean and violent threats I lay on it I know itís very important to my parents since the other one died. So, Iím not really serious when I say that I want to cook it alive and gnaw on its burned carcass. Itís harmless because the bird doesnít understand English, right? Squawk! Squawk!
Some of my ideas for stories that I come up with have a lot to do with betrayal. I think itís funny how you can come to forgive somebody that betrayed you when they refuse to go away. Maybe itís just me. Maybe itís the power of friendship that can endure no matter how bad youíve been treated. Maybe Iím just weak when it comes to telling it like it is. For instance: My friend betrayed me long ago and never went away after that. Eventually, I came to take pity on this person and forgave them for their mistake.
I keep coming up with ideas that I fear I may never act upon. Stories in my head that never come to the page. They say that you should write whenever you can and you should keep a well full of ideas. I got the well, but I never seem to draw from it. I think that is a major issue if I am to become a serious writer. Also, Iím not well read. I read just not all the time and there are some books that I just canít bear to read anymore than half way through. Just write.
I just finished 1984 by George Orwell. I think there comes a time when everybody has to read it and my time finally came when I got the opportunity. I loved it and finished it in a couple of days. I got to thinking about being powerless in the face of something so complicated and evil. Something I came up with is just to get away from it. To escape to the country with someone I love and never return to civilization. I wish I could but I know that Iím a city boy and Iíll never survive out there.
3 or 4 hours of sleep last night. I found a new outlet to be creative away from the computer. A voice recorder. Funny thing is I donít know what to say as I donít believe anyone will ever hear the words on the tape. So, I re-recorded over the same few minutes over and over again. I know it will never be perfect but it helps to try. Plus, I canít use it as a sort of reminder system. Note to self sort of thing. Every time I record something it gets burned into my brain. What to do?
Just past midnight now. I think my neighbor might be trying to seduce me. Maybe she just slipped up and showed me something I shouldnít have seen. Anyway the strangest thing I found on the net today. On onesentence.com there is a single sentence story about how a womanís neighbor saw her undressing in the window. On the exact same day it happened to me. Coincidence? Maybe it was just see your neighbor nakey day. I swear Iím not a peeper. I was just walking my dogs. Way too awkward to ask about it. This is not what I expected.
I think about writing a lot. Itís what I want to do for a living so it just makes sense to think about it. Whenever Iím all alone I think up stories and phrases and try to connect seemingly separate situations to form long complicated journeys. Sometimes, though, you have to stop thinking about it and just start writing. Thatís my main problem and every authorís first word of advice. Just write. I can never find a story that I absolutely need to get down. Actually, there are a few, but they are far between. Write one good story now.
I just donít know sometimes. There are people and things out there that stump me and I go catatonic. I donít know where that thought leads me. I guess itís okay to just veg out and be dumb for awhile but you must come back to your senses eventually. Donít worry so much about things that are unimportant and focus on things that matter. They say that fear can take over if you let it. Itís hard keeping scary thoughts from clouding your mind but you must know that worrying never solved a thing. Try to live in peace completely.
Heroes. I just saw Indiana Jones and Iím thinking about heroes. Where are the real ones? Itís possible to go your whole life without any heroes that stand up for truth and justice and they are rarely as interesting and entertaining as the movie heroes. Still, they must be out there and they must be fighting the good fight. I wish to meet one someday and if at all possible Iíd like to be one to somebody. Find something to give a damn about. Fight for it and protect it with your life. Tell everyone why itís worth protecting. Try.
I donít think there has been anything of much value here over the past few weeks so Iím going to try and add some spicy new flavor to the mix and make it more entertaining for these last few days we have together during the month of May. That first sentence took up almost half of the one hundred words. Howís that for substance? Anyway, I guess weíll just have to wait for those ingredients to kick in. What do you want to do until then? You could get a sandwich or just play some tetris. Iím going to sleep.
I met some interesting people. A family came back to town and they were friends with one of my friends so we drove over there and had a little shindig. Their grandfather died recently and they were reminiscing, mourning, and all that jazz. We played three man and I had a great time. Nothing really came out of it that could lead me to a higher knowledge of anything in particular. Schism. I keep going back and listening to old albums I havenít heard in a while. Trying to retrieve feelings I had back then through the music. Unsuccessful endeavors.
I think Iím finally over the sickness thatís been afflicting me for some time now. I can truly say that I am relieved. Do you ever look back on your life and totally despise the person you used to be? I did. I met a man recently that reminded me of my time as a teenager and I remembered myself doing all these terrible things and generally being an unsavory person. I know thereís nothing to change it but I wish I had made better choices. At least now I can sort of respect myself as a person. Sort of.
I had a great night despite the severe weather. We were caught in the rain and sought refuge in a nearby Subway within sight of the venue in which we were about to see the show . A bedtime carnival prom concert featuring local bands and local hipsters dressed up in nighties and flashy gowns. The show was disrupted by power outages throughout and the headliners were forced into an acoustic set because the stage was leaking and lights were bursting. It was a beautiful sight when the drunks sang along and yelled to cover the silence. Everthus the deadbeats.
This is my last entry for the month. I must say itís been fun but Iím afraid my track record with keeping dates has fluctuated between okay and miserable. Itís no problem really but I will work on it in the future and try to keep honest when posting. I hope youíve enjoyed the little blurbs I have presented to you here. I think Iíll try to keep them coming if youíre interested. Drop by my stumbleupon page and leave a message or check my myspace and mention 100words and tell me what you think. Iíll be listening for you.
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