Down And Out In The Valley

I am going to make a hamburger. I'd like to make something else, but it's just not in the cards, and I'm hungry. I'm broke, food is scarce around here. I started my day by waking up alone for once, it felt strange. Then I cleaned the house up because it proves to be too dificult a task for my roommates. After which I pretended to enjoy my meager Hot Pocket breakfast. I scanned the internet for the usual things; ignoring school. On Craigslist I found an interesting job prospect, so I hopped the light rail over to their weird little bar and applied. On the way back I stopped in Casey's to fill out an application, we'll see what happens. 

Yesterday my friend Mark set up an interview for me at Chronic Tacos, it went okay besides the fact the Faras walked into the restaurant halfway through with his ill intentions. After I was done I stepped outside to talk with him. He proceeded to go on some insane diatribe about how I was not only talking to his girlfriend, but seeing her, and possibly fucking her as well. Is any of this true? No. I have not spoken to her since December, seen her since April, and we have never been anything but friends. To put this into perspective a little bit, he is a crazy Saudi Arabian, and if you know anything about Saudis, you know that they take their control of women deadly serious. So he goes on for about twenty minutes telling me he "knows" about everything, that I was only pretending to apply for the job just to be near the hotel she was at. Simply put, he is delusional. He would not listen to reason or the truth, so at this point it was just a waste of time to continue the discussion, if you could call it that. After walking away, he chased me down and told me that if I go near her or speak to her he and his crazy friends will in so many words kill me, even take himself out in the process if necessary. He also told me that he knows where I live, which I hope is not true because this guy is so fucking out there that I wouldn't put anything past him. After that I popped into a bar for a Bloody Mary and analyzed how to handle the situation. 

Otherwise, we've been having band practice lately. We've just been putting the songs together, practicing my singing, and Darkos been learning the songs. We have three prospective drummers and two prospective bassists. By next week it should all come together, and I hope so because Darko wants to start playing gigs by next month. We'll see what comes of it, we're just having fun at the moment.

But what I really need to do right now... what I really need to get done, because it's so important. I need to make that hamburger. No wait, a cheeseburger. It should be epic. After that, it's cocktail hour. Plus it's been a little while since we've had more than ten people over. We have laid low long enough after what happened two weeks ago, so I think it might just have to be one of those nights.

Ramble...

Love

       Death

                Travel

                Revolt

       Chaos

Excess

          The American way

More on ATF than EDU

Flawed inoperative fucking

Slow down

Speed up

     NO

Flowing prose off the tongues of geniuses

The stuff dreams are made of

Uninhibited thought escaping from the brain

The Thief

You know she never understood me. How could she? I was just running across the blistering pavement of my youth, while stumbling through the beaches of my adulthood. She tried to sanction my behavior, more only because he had said so. But he would never talk to me. I never would make it easy though. The contradictions of my young character were too many. The surfer. The musician. The skater. The prodigy. The outcast. The alcoholic. The hoodie. The computer whiz. The drug addict. The psychotic. The criminal. The romantic. The poet. The pirate. The player. The traveler. The writer. The hustler. The chef. The hero. Being all of these things was confusing to them. I wouldn't expect anyone to get it really. How could they ever tell me what I was feeling, when I wouldn't even know the answer to that question. Isn't that a silly question anyways? I mean who gives a fuck?  Too many people give a fuck. Too many rely on structure and order when all there really is to it is fluidity. Why just be one when you can be many? Sometimes at the the same time. Sometimes you can just go so deep into one that there can only be one. And this road just keeps getting longer. I fear that I may just get lost one day. Just end up somewhere up north, miles from the rest, just alone. There'll be no compass to point due south. Just me up in some desolate cabin, having finally given up, genuinely not giving a shit. I feel like it can become easy to get lost when you no longer know who you are. But I also feel like you can always find yourself when you need to. And sometimes you think that you should never create anything, because people will just misinterpret it. Perhaps I should allow them to understand soon. Not much time is left anyway. Everybody dies, and they'll die soon. But I have to understand first. 

Time Is Tight

I hate you. You hear it, and you know that's not what it means. You could just play it back in reverse. Four months is not a long time. I hear that, and I know that's what it means. There's a test I should be taking right now, but I'm just not. My mind is drawing me away from it, away from what I know needs to be done. I'd rather be doing this, I'd rather be doing anything but. I'm on the brink of failing the most important class of my degree, and I don't care. Yet I still manage to get A's in all the other classes. 

Ding-dong, this fucking text machine they call a phone won't shut up. No, I don't want to hang out with you, I no longer have the stomach for it. That's the thing about some people, they just won't fucking get it. They enjoy the abuse, thrive on it. I just feel sorry for the poor bastards, while concurrently loathing and disrespecting them. All women are different, this is something that needs to be understood. Generallizing a whole sex can be a mistake, now sure, there are types, class sets, but fundamentally they are all different. Obviously these differences are subtle, but one must understand them, it can make or break you. Beyond that, there will be many a time when you think there is a certain one you want, but you could be dead wrong. You have to know your types for this one. Then once you have what you want you can begin to explore the differences I spoke of earlier. Here is a quote that I like on the subject: 

"There were no judgements to be made, yet out of necessity one had to select. Beyond good and evil was all right in theory, but to go on living one had to select: some were kinder than others, some were simply more interested in you, and sometimes the outwardly beautiful and inwardly cold were necessary, just for bloody, shitty kicks, like a bloody, shitty movie. The kinder ones fucked better, really, and after you were around them a while they seemed beautiful because they were." 

This is true. Kindness and soul are essential. Otherwise it will just be vapid and time consuming. I don't really know where I'm headed with all of this. It is not what I was trying to say. It's just that I keep getting these texts, and it reminded me of the abuse some are willing to take. Also, I have other thoughts about someone else, so I guess it just made me think of the dichotomy of women. 

Four months off. Four fucking months. I don't know. There is just way to much shit to get done in this time frame. I may have to ask for an extension.

Crossroads

I always knew it would end up this way. I just never wanted to believe it. I've been trying to make the ride last longer, just always that little extra, always asking for more. But like asking anybody a hundred times for just a little bit more, life will eventually get pissed off at you as well. So what does one do? At this point you can only go one way. One is to just keep pushing along the current path, going even more off the grid, then wanting to come back later on and finding out that the door is locked. Another is to just do what you know is right, sacrifice some of the things you still want; many are trivial, but I can think of at least one person I don't want to give up. And this is where the problems lie. Yet of course that's the biggest part of being an adult; doing things that you don't want to do, but have to do. Quiero a ir a Suramerica, pero no puedo. Quiero a amor, pero no puedo. Quiero a seguir a beber, pero no puedo. Mi vida es jodido. These are things that concern me as of late. They were things always lingering in the back of my mind, but a real conversation with a real man just put that shit right out on front street. Normally such things would not affect me, but knowing the utter truth in it will not allow it to esacpe me......... Sorry, I would have liked to continue on with this depressing diatribe but some guests arrived, and then an old friend called and after talking with him for awhile, I feel much better. So, I got nothing left. I guess you'll have to produce the rest of the tears on your own. I'd like to help you out, but I got no grief left to spare.

Fucking Sick

I am fucking sick. I don't mean sick like as in badass; that's usually just reserved for the weekend. No, as in like I feel like shit. I tasted it rolling in the other night, yet had hoped it was all bullshit. But no, I am fucked. So now I sit in the far backyard trying to soak up the remaining sunlight while drinking screwdrivers for vitamin c. It's not even cold today, but still in the sunlight with three shirts and a sweatshirt I'm freezing. I also have some backed up homework to plow through, and I'm just not feeling it, at least I got some of it done. Plus, the most promising job interview I've found yet is tomorrow, but I have to be sick. This weekend promises to be big, and I hope this sickness passes in the interim.

Other notes... some good, some troubling, none bad; well at least not yet.

Thoughts these days... felt a spark to the bone, experienced a simple twist of fate, felt the heat of the night hit me like a freight, the light bust through a beat up shade as I was waking up, waking up in a bare room, felt that emptiness inside to which I could not relate, been told it's a sin to know and feel too much within, believed I met a twin, I was born too late, the colors in your mind, stay lady stay, my clothes are dirty but my hands are clean, why wait any longer for the world to begin when it's standing in front of you, trying to stay while the night is still ahead, longing to see someone in the morning light, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why if you don't know by now, it ain't no use in turning on your light  the light i never knowed  i'm on the dark side of the road, we never did too much talking anyway, it ain't no use in calling out my name like you never done before, my love speaks like silence, valetines can't buy her, she knows there's no success like failure and that failures no success at all.

Realities these days... I need a job, my money is fast dwindling, I'm killing myself, I'm wasting my time, life won't wait, I'm built for destruction, I'm marginally fucking school up, I have a job to do, I'm leaving soon, I'm dragging others down with me, my drink is too pulpy, the house is too cold, I need health insurance, I have to piss.

Quiet

Silence in the dead of night; outside, in good weather. I prefer it when it's quiet like this. Especially here, it seldom happens. But when these rare moments occur in the center of the valley I relish them. Away from the parties. Away from the sex. Away from the booze. Away from the drugs. Away from all the nonsense. Sometimes it feels like it never ends. But when these moments occur it all feels like it comes together and we garner our time to reflect. It enables us to sit idly on our back porches with a cigarette and strong drink in tow. And say fuck it, sometimes that's all we need; all we desire. As fun as these bloody, shitty kicks can be, it's just every once in a while when we can appreciate the simplicity of solitude, drink, and smoke. So, I just made some homemade frybread that blew my socks off. On top of that I linked it up with a fried burger slathered in Thai chili sauce and cilantro. Mouth orgasms I tell you; not to be missed. Now I hear the birds chirp and I question what time it is, yet I'm quite sure I don't care. So I take another pull off of my Vodka, and light another Marlboro. As my reflection continues I'm quite sure that this is one of those times that a transition is in effect. I care not to speak on what it's about at the moment, but sometimes you just know. I'd like to think it's for the better, but I also don't know. All I'm confident in is a change. Not a sea change, just a nudge.