REPORT A PROBLEM
The air outside was too heavy when I first went out to walk the dogs. I felt like I was drowning and everything smelled like chlorine. I just stood there in the middle of my backyard looking up at the sky wishing it was possible to swim up there and catch my breath.
Funny thing about being out of breath Ė it doesnít matter when you breath smoke all day. Itís almost the opposite now that Iím out of smokes. Here I am gasping for that sweet tar out of old half smoked butts wishing I couldnít sink any lower.
Fucking envy. Itís about all I can feel around my friends. Really itís not envy because I donít need to wish for the things they have I just need to make myself do something with my life and the rest all falls into place. Envious perhaps of the will they have to get up and force themselves to go to jobs they hate. Or maybe itís the fact that they seem to know what theyíre doing and I donít have a clue. Feeling like a beached whale that everyone keeps telling to go back out to sea is not cool.
ďYouíre my favorite person to hang out with.Ē
They all say it and it feels like they mean it. Whatís not to like? Iím kind and funny and all that jazz. Self deprecating to a point. Iíll go without some luxuries in spite of offerings. I donít think I deserve some things even as gifts. I know youíre being nice but I need to learn to fend for myself. Blah! Money is the root of all evil and I donít want to be a slave to horrible masters. I donít want to be dependant but Iím just so lazy.
This seems like the perfect place to talk about words. My favorite word, if I had to choose one right now gun to my head situation, Iíd say it would be Attrition. Go look it up if you donít know the meaning. Itís not the meaning that draws me to this word. Itís the sound of it. Attrition. Say it. Sound it out. Make that word your bitch and fall in love with the feeling of it coming out of your mouth. Brilliant! I donít know. Itís just such a great word. Try to use it sometime today. Attrition. Awesome.
I donít know what I should write here. I donít know what Iím thinking. Life is, as usual, pretty boring. Pretty tame. Nothing so out of the ordinary worth reporting has happened and nothing fictional is bubbling to the surface. Itís a moment in life when everything is just calm and unsuspecting. BULLSHIT! When you think about it, we are hurdling through space at incredible speeds seemingly alone in an infinite void filled with dead rocks and brilliant lights. Everything that could possibly be happening is happening! Unfortunately, I am not taking part. Just sitting here typing 100 words. Bored.
Greetings! Iíve just finished a book! Kurt Vonnegutís Sirens of Titan. I thought it was great. Luck is not the hand of god. I was a victim of a series of accident, as are we all. Pretty much all good. Iím not Vonnegutís biggest fan. I couldnít even begin reading Deadeye Dick. Still, I like his style in the book. Heís casual and funny. Sort of old fashioned but thatís what you get from someone living in the sixties. I recommend it. Now, what the hell do I read next? Chrono synclastic infundibulum. Be patient. We haven't forgotten about you.
Non-fiction? I donít care for it too much. Of course, that is mostly what youíll find here in my 100 words entries. I just donít need to hear about all that crazy shit going down all over the world and peopleís biographies and what not. I want to hear a story about truly impossible odds and heroes and villains battling for the fate of the world. I donít want to think itís really happening around me. I much prefer my life to anything I can find in non-fiction. I want to be lied to. I want to escape my non-fiction.
Something happened this weekend. Now, I am gushing from it. I think this may be folly. I know what this does to people and Iím worried it will affect me in a bad way. Sometimes Iím so worried about it I start getting really anxious and my stomach hurts. Still, itís all I can think about and it wonít go away. We canít know the future so thereís no sense in worrying about it. I just canít make sense of any of it at all. What you think is happening and what is happening could be two different things entirely
Iím inspired. Reeling from a good feeling. Iím compelled to write about something. I just need to get it out. Again, Iím worried about the consequences if someone found this. You should always be a little afraid of what youíre writing or else no one is going to get a feeling at all. I think. One word of advice: Donít pay attention to any advice given by me in these small blurbs. Who am I to tell you how to do things. I am still a child in this life. I know only that I know nothing. Salute your shorts.
Sheís been doing it for some time now. Flirting with me. I do find her attractive. I just donít want anybody getting too close. The opposite is also true and now I find myself torn between the need for love and companionship and the secure feeling that comes with being alone. Only I know my secrets. Iím afraid I might have to give them away if I pursue this course. I am the dumbest person in all the world. Of course they say ďCall her. Talk to her. Tell her how you feel.Ē I will. Maybe. I donít know. Shit.
Itís actually the 12th. I tried to write something out for yesterday, I came out with half a dozen entries, and all of them were major disappointments. I was sort of disoriented. I donít know. Whatever. I figure itís not that big of a deal. Anyway, I was drunk and drunken writing isnít all that great. So, this is filler. Just skip over it and read the next one. Itís bound to be somewhat more entertaining. I will say that my thoughts and actions yesterday enlightened me somewhat on the topic of infatuation. Iíll continue that thought in a second.
When I meet a lady Iím interested in, Iíll generally clam up and become tense. I still talk to them and befriend them. Iím not a creep. Still, Iím not the most sociable person in the world. But, when they show signs of interest, my mind clouds up with thoughts of what could be. Iíve been alone for a long time. Then I think of all the reasons they shouldnít find me attractive and lose all self-esteem. Eventually, this leads me to miss my opportunity and I panic and imagine being alone for the rest of my life. Fucking confusing.
This too will be a continuation from the previous entry. IÖ made a confession tonight. Perhaps a profession. Maybe you noticed a build-up of events. One leading to another. Like a giant wave rising on the shore. Itís similar in its catastrophic undertones. Action causes reaction. I told her how I feel in so many words. The conversation under displeasurable circumstances. Still, like a female sage told me once, ďItís like a band-aid, you have to just rip it off in one fluid motionĒ. I did so, and honestly, it felt just terrible telling her. I know itís not convenient.
Her reaction to my words told me all I needed to know. Plus, the way it all went down. I left after she decided to choose someone else. She was upset that I, her friend, left without saying goodbye. I think she knew beforehand, but still it felt like a trap sprung an unsuspecting prey. I didnít want that to be the way she found out. I wanted it to be in person. I just didnít think Iíd have the courage. So, here I am again, uncertain of the outcome Iíll tell you later. What am I going to do?
This is where things get interesting. In limbo you never know where you are or which way is up. I have that feeling now. Itís not the most comfortable and I cherish above all other things comfort. Still, itís not all bad. I donít feel comfortable even writing about it let alone talking to friends. Itís a little personal and I like to keep most of my business private. I will try to chart out a course for the future, but Iím sure what is planned and what happens will likely be incredibly different. Iíll just go with the flow.
Iíve taken a different perspective on the whole situation. A more mature look at everything. I give her space and time to think over everything that happened this weekend. I donít know where we stand as people but I donít think everything has been cleared up. My view is a little blurred on the subject. I think there was an opportunity but I missed it because it was so early in the morning and we were both exhausted. Itís not the end of the world. Iím just so curious to see where this leads me. Iíll try to stop being one-dimensional.
100 words will never be enough. I was right to think that this was a bad idea. Thatís all Iíll say about this until I learn more about it. Anyway, what else is there to talk about? Last night I made a guideline, outline of things that I need to do to get my life in order. Itís all been said before and probably much better than I said it. Still, it might help. I need all the help I can get. Iím 21 and Iím still growing up. I think I can get through this. Wish me luck. Peace.
Itís funny how we say hurtful things when we donít get what we want. At least what we think are hurtful. My brother wanted a smoke and I refused him and he just spat up a ton of things he thought were mean. It didnít help his cause. I wish I knew what that thought process was like. How do you think youíll get what you want when you piss off the one person that can give it to you? Mind blowing stuff.
ďMy heart is a smoking hole in the ground.Ē
From my favorite book right now. Snow Crash.
Five days Iíve missed. You know, itís just not too convenient to write everyday. I know. Write everyday and never lose you schedule. Itís not that simple. Sometimes you canít write. The situation restricts your abilities. Itís not like you donít have anything to write. I donít have a pen or a computer. I wish it was easier, but I wonít give up just because itís hard. I know that this is what Iím for. I wonít stop. Itís just not going to be on this frequency all the time. George Carlin has ceased to be. Shit fuck motherfucker cocksucker!
The situation, as I wonít stop talking about it, is constantly evolving. I wish I understood it better so I could relay it back in a more clear and coherent way. Itís never the same, but I always feel the same. I know she knows and weíre ďcoolĒ now, but I donít know if I should hold out hope or not. Iím afraid to ask. I think the answer will be something unwanted or unsuspected. Either way is frightening. Hysterical and useless. Weíre still friends and I think that counts as something. I donít want to lose that. God Damnit!
No! I promised to speak on other subjects and I know thatís important. So, Iíll go somewhere else. Where? Sleeping in on stormy days? Strolling though a humid park. No shoes! Being uncomfortable. Sharing space with everything. Battery Acid. None of it needs to make sense. Itís little snowflakes building themselves into a giant snowball. Snowmen standing in line and marching to city hall. Rockets strapped to their backs and pointing them to the sky. No one can save you. No one cares. Sorry never said goodbye. Wish youíd lived and I wouldíve died. Thatís the shit. Thatís just life.
The ability to laugh at weakness. Itís funny when you think about all the ways you wish you werenít, but canít help being like that. I hate being a useless lay about, but itís nothing I care to change too much. What? There are a million other things. And there are so many great things about me. Those are the ones I donít care to write about. Nothing worse than a gloating assface. Still, thereís no reason to be down all the time. Except when youíre out of smokes. Then down the abyss we go. Fuck the whole damn world.
Pasty, oily, lanky, tall, awkward, snobby, genuine, relaxed, calm, static, and dirty. Ill, cold, shallow, hidden, secluded, free, but enclosed. Willing, scared, haunted, trembling, promising, and just too much hair. Pock marks, and scars. Unkempt, oblivious, optimistic, wet behind the ears, straight no chaser, warm, cheap beers. Trigger happy, careless, cautious, fearless, intuitive, gut wrenched, unoriginal, shy, broke, bony, bright eyed, chili cheese, freshly squeezed, pretty please. Cloud nine, undefined, untouchable, invisible, well oiled, tight ship. Tough shit, little bit, stupid prick, flick your bic. Dead Sea, white tees, gumshoe, old news. Sun sneeze, big teeth, none of these. Geez.
I havenít seen a doctor in years. Since way back in high school. Or was it middle school? My thumb became inflamed by a parasite under my nail. Blew up to like three times its normal size. He cut it open and drained it for days. I lost the nail. That was a weird process. Anyway, after that was nothing. No check ups, no groping my nuts, no thermometers, nothing. Itís safe to assume that Iíd benefit greatly from another visit, but hell, I ainít got no money. So my health has to wait. Everything works out in the end.
Six days. I guess I could do this without you knowing how long itís been since I wrote the last one, but I donít care. I didnít think about that until I started writing this. Plus, Iíve already written forty words in this entry. No use deleting it all now. Now is the last day I can write for this month. I think. Iím still not sure about all the odds and ends of this little system. I donít care if itís cheating. If they want to enforce the rule or if itís just a honor thing- it doesnít matter.
Trying to remember Thursday nearly a week after the fact brings an almost debilitating headache. If itís not alcohol induced amnesia then it is certainly a brain tumor. I havenít been able to recall recent events within days of them happening for years now. Iíve done a few drugs and Iíve killed plenty of brain cells. Only the bad ones I hope. Itís sort of a curse seeing as how most of the conversations I have with friends are reminiscent of days gone by. We donít have as much fun now so we remember the times that were better. Memories!
Four to go. Itís not as much of a chore as I thought it might be. I enjoy documenting the journeys and thoughts of my life. Theyíre not important, but I think they are and I feel itís necessary to get it all down (or as much as I can) and preserve it for future examination. Pause. Thinking about snatching another smoke from my passed out friend and taking deep drags while contemplating existential bullshit as life passes me by. What a cynical douche. Killing yourself seems much more time efficient. Haste makes waste. Human waste in a swiveling chair.
I just realized that Iím two behind on next monthís deal. No biggie. I guess that means I was eight days behind. Shit. What have I been doing that was so time consuming as to keep me away from my precious computer? Friday? I remember doing a thing. What it was is anybodyís guess. Or opportunity to make something up. Iíll say I was hang gliding off the coast of South Africa in an attempt to evade Peruvian drug thugs who were after me for an incident involving massive amounts of money and a handful of human slave laborers. Sweet.
Weezer Ė The Red Album. Self-titled if you prefer. The greatest album from the year 2008. I believe it. Only half way through and thereís plenty to be excited about, but this album right here, nigga. This album is fucking amazing. Plus, my gameboy is fixed and I can play Mario 3 whenever I want. This is good for my senses. Iím entertained at all times. My fulfillment level on stimulation is full. Filled. On that front life is good. Other things not so much. Thatís life. Iím dealing with it. Things arenít as bad out here as they might seem.
Sunís coming up. Iíll start on Julyís entries later. I need to sleep a little. Just like a slacker to do everything last minute. I hope youíll understand that I do like this thing Iím doing. 100 words. I think itís cool. I enjoy it. Eventhough it has to be done when all else are sleeping and itís too late to keep a coherent thought on the brain. Maybe thatís why I enjoy it. No. I like it because I like to write. Thatís all. It helps me keep writing even when I donít do it everyday. Seeya next month.
The Tip Jar