| Hi. |
[Nov. 25th, 2008|09:03 pm] |
The last time I updated this thing was 150 weeks ago. I'm visiting old places in the last few days, I guess... I'm feeling old, or not, or something, or not, for now at least, and commas. Anyone still around? Has life altered you permanently?
Yours in amusing closing,
Alexx |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 8th, 2006|10:18 pm] |
 Oh Great Cthulhu!I have been an extremely sedulous devotee this year. In March, I bombed a cultist gathering (-100 points). In October, I recruited ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) 8782 as a new cultist (30 points). Yesterday, I defiled the grave of that traitor, Lovecraft (90 points). In December, I fed 8782 to a Shoggoth (250 points). In April, I sacrificed prettyhead to Cthulhu (500 points). In August, I called down the wrath of Yog-Sothoth upon juststayfocused (65 points). In short, I have been very good (835 points) and deserve to get hooked up with one of those cute Innsmouthers. Your humble and obedient servant, angryanthropoid
Submit your own plea to Cthulhu! |
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| Yep |
[Oct. 11th, 2005|12:52 pm] |
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Ok, so I actually leave on the 26th. I swear. I got a ticket this time and everything. This is all. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 11th, 2005|07:10 pm] |
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Fuck it, why not update for no good reason. Currently throwing away all non-essential items and preparring my room for painting. I haven't purchased the ticket yet, but I think October 18th is the moving date. It's been pushed back too many times, I really have to leave soon. Not much to say, aside from the move I've been bored and lonely. I miss having someone around. I want sushi. I think I'll go drink more coffee now. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 16th, 2005|01:27 am] |
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I hate karma. I hate the circle that is my life. I can't stop fucking crying. When looking at people in the past I guess I've never really had someone be in love with me. Yeah, I've been loved, but they've never been in love with me. Yet again, that same old bullshit. I am about to get drunker than I've ever been. Hopefully choke on my own vomit and make the world far less interesting but easier to live in. Fuck. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 14th, 2005|08:11 pm] |
I break down; that's my job as a human currently. All strength I used to have is gone, dissolved by the eddies of growth and the tides of niceness. In the past, I could scream out vulgarities into the night for months, curse gods and men in one breath and still have time to convince women to do horrible things. Now, I bite back tears because I love her more than she could ever love me. I feel like I've been stretched out too far, too thin for proper existence. My daily routine of panic attacks and codependence has left me impotent, unable to defend myself. A creature more gossamer understanding than the solid egotism and hate of my youth.
Christ, I just whine too often. Someone should come pick me up, get me drunk and give me cocaine... I do believe that would make me feel better. Anyway, I'm off to type desperately into a poem and hope that something good comes out. |
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| 6 feet under |
[Aug. 6th, 2005|04:44 am] |
SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!
Holy shit. What a fucking head trip right there. They fucking killed off nate. I know the show is ending, but what a way to introduce the last episodes. Kudos to the writers there. I don't know, it's rare I like a show this much... It's nice to be surprised |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 9th, 2005|02:24 pm] |
So, really what it comes down to is that I may love her more than Portland. Who knows? I'm thinking about getting a job in NJ for awhile to see how the lady situation plays out. If that fails, I bounce. My thoughts have always been focused on getting myself better, happy. To that end, Portland was an excellent answer. Portland treated me right, made me comfortable. But now, It's Kelly who deominates my thoughts, treats me well and gives amazing comfort. I'm not trying to make this some epic thing, just a simple equation of happiness via location or person.
Maybe this will fall to pieces in a few months, maybe not. Either way, I'm confused but happy. This was a weird update, I'm sorry you read it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 27th, 2005|11:13 am] |
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She just left my house today after 3 days of being here. That was a good weekend, and fuck all ya' all who disagree. Saturday night I had some people over for drinks and random banter. I didn't get too trashed, good for me. We slept next to one another; and it was good. Sunday brought a day of laying around in bed and talking. Later, after beating back the call of bed, we went swimming. I haven't been in a lake since I was about 17 years old. I can't swim very well, but good times nonetheless. Then back to my place where we sat around listening to music and staring at each other. I read her some poems and there was some smiling to be seen. Even later, we watched "Being John Malkovich" and she seemed to dig it. More sleeping was had before we went to the diner this morning. Then it was over. I'm sitting here trying to think about how it's Monday and I'm alone again. It's a strange thing to be so comfortable with someone after so little time. There's a few poems that I need to write, just have to find the words. Trying to find the right words is the essential aspect of my life. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 21st, 2005|07:22 pm] |
Ugh, it never goes easily does it?
So I got a job offer; or I should say I have a foot in the door of a magazine in NJ, or NY. I'm kind of thinking about interviewing there and maybe working in NJ for 3-5 months, get a better stake up and leave. This would work too because it gives me more time with the girl. But I just don't want to get trapped here. I'm ready to leave. I should leave. But I just don't know. Maybe go back to my original plan of leaving in the fall, avoid the NJ winter. Who ever reads this, please respond. I need advice. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 20th, 2005|12:07 pm] |
I saw her again last night, disc golf and a movie. It seems each time we are around each other I like her more; though I have a sneaking suspicion that the opposite may be true for her. Or I'm just extremely insecure around people and read too much into too little. I'm going to attempt optimism for the moment and say that.
So the Portland move is looking pretty good so far. I'm starting to think it'll be in September, but hell as long as it happens. I'll miss some people in the area(read previous paragraph) and that will suck. But I keep reminding myself that I'll wither and die if I stay in NJ. I'm rambling I guess. I kind of want to get in the habit of updating so when I leave people can remember why they didnt like me in the first place.
That is all. |
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| Poem I found |
[Jun. 14th, 2005|04:35 pm] |
I stumbled upon this in my writing folder. I like it:
On the capture of women
The essential process is something like, but altogether different, painting
progressional musical chords, it makes sense, though I’ve run out of words
for those small moments where your effect was more than the sum of myself,
a simple gesture, a causeless smile, so I gave up on the other words, and replaced them with the following
I wrote 7 simple haiku’s
one for each point of fire you claim for your own—
Your hand on your hip, and shift personae—
Two through five, odes to that half smile you wear
when a comment strikes your fancy, or
a dart hits some ritualistic spot and sticks.
Six was a madman, the insanity of poetry
burning mass between your eyes, passionate
fury behind words, the meaning
and the sound.
The seventh, she was a horror
of trying to find that spot on your neck
where all soul emanates. . . it was like wrestling
with Tiamat for control of the sky, for control enough
to describe that inner something which makes
me write this; in place of seven simple Haiku’s
devoted and dedicated, a description
of how words fail when poets collide. |
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| Hungover for the last time today |
[Jun. 13th, 2005|02:22 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  content | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Tom Waits Make it rain | ] |
How to begin? Life got pretty interesting in the last month or so. Well, I guess I'll start with the girls. I was in love, and it sucked pretty hard. It was one of those stomach churning, all encompassing affairs. She didn't reciprocate on that level. Did I mention it sucked? Well after months of self imposed agony on my end something snapped. I don't know if I gave up, or stopped giving up; but I changed within two days. She seemed different to me, though she acted the same. We slept together the last time I was at her place, and it was good. But it was good in that "this is the last time" kind of way. We don't write each other everyday now. I'll miss the picture of her I had in my delusional love state; as far as reality is concerned, I'll give her a hug upon arrival and get back to my beer.
I slept with a girl on Saturday night. And I mean slept as in lost consciousness together. It was a hot night, the room was sweltering and I had to wake up in an hour. I woke up to my phone ringing, my shirt soaked in sweat, with a girl next to me looking horribly sweet. I kissed her neck and she smiled when she saw I was still there. I don't love her. I haven't fucked her. This is a new thing for me. As many of you, ok one, knows I either fuck of fall in love. It's strange to like and not act. I woke her up and she smiled. We kissed goodbye and I had to play a discgolf tournament.
They gave me an award for looking the most haggard after the previous nights partying; I laughed. I played sick golf the first round. I shot ok the second round. The third round was the one I showed up after the night with the girl. I shot decent. The last round I dropped a bomb. My score for round four was tied with the best round of anyone at the tournament, pro's included. In the end, I finished 4th in my devision, which would have translated to 6th place in the pro. I found that good.
I called her after the tournament. I could hear a smile in her hello, made me grin like an idiot.
Last Sunday was Ernie Schlemmer's funeral. He was the father of my childhood best friend, Eric. He was married to the woman who owns the flower shop with my mother. Basically, this guy was a very close family friend. I felt bad for the family and the friends gathered for him. But I was relieved it was over. He had fought cancer for over a year and finally the cancer won. I'm glad he gets to relax now. I wish that I could believe in something concrete as far as an afterlife is concerned; that way I could have something specific to wish him.
I'm moving to Portland in August. I think I'll save that for another entry, maybe another journal. Suffisive to say, I feel good about finally making a decision. A weight has lifted and I feel I can enjoy these last months in Jersey sans depression. I shouldn't use French words. |
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| On being a drunk. Or: How I learned that I bore easily. |
[Apr. 12th, 2005|09:40 pm] |
I'm trying not to drink this week, just to clear out the head and liver a little. But I'm starting to realize it's not the drinking that I have a problem with, it's staying in all night. The TV show I'm watching goes to commercial and I freeze up with anxiety. I need contact with something outside of this room, of myself every now and again. So I go to the bar, or diner. Maybe I'm just rationalizing the situation, but I don't need alcohol right now; I need coffee at a diner, or a beer a tthe bar... just something to get me outside of myself. Maybe I'll go somewhere.. maybe i'll stop worrying. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll blow my fuckign head off. |
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| Stand up comics and the pope |
[Apr. 3rd, 2005|05:18 am] |
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The pope, and more importantly, Mitch Hedberg died withen the last few days. I wish Mitch the best in the after-life.. the pope doesn't need my well wishes. I got nothing to say and no way to say it. I miss everything that went before and miss everything that should happen later. |
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| Rant |
[Mar. 22nd, 2005|12:19 am] |
On being a writer:
or, How I learned to love an anxiety disorder.
At some point all songs will become depressing; it's all dependant on how long you've known the lyrics. Sing me a song of joyous reprise about the love, about a man remembering and I'll want to remember that too. But I have no memories, and more importantly no one to share them with. “The two of us Sunday driving, not arriving.” I try to write... avoid the onset of crushing anxiety, depression or inebriation. But in the end, it's all just screaming into that same void. That same horrible weight on your chest in the morning and in the glass of the evening.
It's midnight and I haven't had a drink for almost 24 hours. The only reason I want to drink is because I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack. The panic attack is from the loneliness and crushing ennui. Those aren't as apparent when i'm out, ie drinking. So basically I want a drink and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Who am I talking to? No one I'd assume. All my livejournal friends are gone. Eh, I need a cigarette. Good bye |
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