::
2015 9 February :: 12.21am
:: Mood: nostalgic
:: Music: Heavy Metal Kids - Delirious
The ol' high school reunion is around the corner.
I took a gander at the Facebook page and realized I don't remember 90% of the people who are planning on going. I remember the people on my friend's list, and a handful of other people...but since most people's profile photos are of their kids, it's hard to tell whether or not they have a familiar face, because honestly, I'm shit with names.
That, and I don't remember much of high school other than being the weird kid, not having a ton of friends, being rejected by girls, and skipping the majority of the second half. Other than that, I was rather fond of it....well, perhaps not; but if I go, it'll be a gasser to see what these people morphed into over the past ten years.
It's late, can't sleep, everything sucks; business as usual.
Wife has requested that I don't ask her for sex for a few days, and it is a reasonable request, but sent me storming off the living room before she fell asleep to fume and sulk. Selfish prick, much? Indeed. But it was a bad day, and my typical fiendish disposition ruined the night previous, and it seems to carried over to tonight.
Garden variety feelings of worthlessness snowballed from the afternoon until coming to a head after work, and Liz went about the evening as always, and I was upset that she wasn't as sympathetic as I would have liked her to have been. But in the same breathe, I didn't want to be coddled because it's not her duty to be a 24/7 cheerleader whenever I scrape my knee (in the half-assed figurative sense).
There were some other minor incidents that pushed fomenting teenage angst into full-on grownup tantrum, but those details are too embarrassing, even for the internet. Consider yourself spared. But they struck a nerve, and now I'm pissed off, mildly chilly, and alone in a dark room ranting via a keyboard.
If I were born with a sufficient amount of testosterone, I'd just go out and hit another male, but I wasn't, so I'll sulk like a wee boy.
::
2014 29 December :: 5.49pm
:: Music: Crude SS - Respect the Earth
At the local Chinese restaurant for an post-arbeit snack with wifey.
This isn't Facebook, but I figured a few photos from time to time wouldn't hurt anything, since finding a moment to bitch and moan about how awful things are is rather time consuming.
At the Mid-Pinellas Comic Con with my Little Family
Yet another fucking wedding day photo.
I am pleased with how life has turned out this year.
I've decided I'm going to be a skinhead again. The other skinheads aren't going to like this, because I have a corporate gig, albeit with a low pay grade.
So I suppose it's going to be suspenders and boots, religious head shaving, and the whole shebang, sans fist-fights and a laborer's gig. I'm preparing to be ostracized by the other fellows, but fuck 'em, they're probably not going to notice that which does not go into the outside world for leisure very often.
This song reminds me of Liz, and every time it plays on the ride home from work I feel grateful to have her, and feel quite the spoiled and grumpy arsehole for not appreciating her in the manner she deserves.
::
2014 4 November :: 12.27am
:: Mood: lonely
:: Music: Adrian von Ziegler - Let Me Fade
Things are going swell, but I'm still beset by that teenage feeling comparable to thinking I'll die a virgin.
You know that hopeless "I suck" mentally? That's the one.
I'm going to tighten by boot straps and force myself to rule at life, or I'm going to disintegrate and vanish from the hearts and minds of men...oh, wait...well ahead of myself.
::
2014 2 November :: 2.16am
:: Mood: lethargic
:: Music: Darkthrone - Under a Funeral Moon
Halloween went well. Lovey and I got dressed up, and I slam-danced at a punk rock cover show - and wound up misplacing my wife and carrying a dead dove home.
Fuckin' tired. Haven't slept a wink, and probably won't because my stepson will be awake in a couple of hours (if not sooner), and this is virtually all the free-time I can look forward to in the foreseeable future.
Flat broke, and didn't have the necessary funds to get myself a new pair of boots and suspenders this pay period; probably won't be able to next round, either, but that's life. With a little polish and Gorilla Glue my current boots will last as long as they need to, but are showing obviously signs that retirement is imminent.
Since I'll probably get an hour of sleep during the day (if I'm lucky), I bet my bottom dollar that I won't even make my long-sought trip to Wilson's Book Store tomorrow.
I have a theory (no mere hypothesis) that maturity is the natural result of your soul being ground down into a fine powder from years of stifling humdrum. That's why older heads don't have many interests or hobbies, and focus solely on their troubles and everyday inanities.
All in all, I love my life as it is, but wish that I didn't feel so damned old and worn. I wish I had more time and money to do something that was stimulating and fun that my loved ones could participate in without being bored. I wish a lot of things, et cetera, but that's not how things work.
