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:: 2021 3 January :: 9.36 pm
:: Music: David Bowie - Lazarus

Time is not a stream, but a thick and chunky undertow...
Mr. J,

That's what Harley Quinn calls the Joker. But we both know that's not here or there.
You scallywag, how's the slipstream time-dream beauty Queen? :P I kid you, you're a wonderful soul for heeding the now with me.
But, isn't life such a rope finger's-length from grasp?
The puzzle is never truly solved, only provides more questions. Ideas so intimate in proximity, suddenly so distant. And the vice versa.
If time is a body of water-like substrate, is there a shore, beach or rocky precipice in which I may glimpse and enjoy it's better amusings?
Maybe it's you, my dear friend. Only a condensed series of switches held within place against the better of your nature. Anti-equilibrium :P I figured you out.

You know it's not time yet, but what does that even mean?
Maintain the heading and wind direction, let's rendezvous s'il vous plait avec vous chez du temps.

At all the hour <3

Point and Shoot

:: 2014 19 September :: 10.59 pm

Against the laws of nature, the wings regrow!
Darwin, what was he thinking, writing such a thing as evolution! Noticing adaptation. The environment molding the organism!
What does Darwing think of love?! Is it austere, cold and calculating?
Love is a broad term if you think about it. It should be re-examined by a comity to be subjugated and redefined.
Even in science they allow the anomaly, the thing that redefines.
Mr. J, the world! The world is mine, I inherited it when I was born. Noone realizes this. It's mine, shortly, but I own a share; a portion.
And so, I will not be a product of my environment, but a shaper of the environment around me.
The river was cold, the travel was destitute and soggy, and scary.
But I decided when to fight against the current and swim towards shore.
My muscles burned, my perilous fall; shattering. But I swam, and I swim, and swim.
And the sun is warming on the shore. Now, where to go from here?
No time for a fire, I'll set this goddamn shore on fire with ambition.
Mr J., you understand! You've kept going all these years. Stay going.

Stay going!

You're still ravashing, Mr J., a looker if there ever was one. A roman statue.

- Me

Point and Shoot

:: 2014 27 April :: 10.38 pm

The difference isn't all that different, it's perception that's being percieved...
You like that title, Mr. J?

Mr. J, I gotta let you in on something.

Here's the thing, you sitting down? We're all scared. There, I said it. However, the thing I've seen is some people use these tools they've built, or acquired. Tenacity and integrity. Those aren't the only ones. But the good ones. And I mean good--like good and evil.

I can state this claim surely.

That fear, that's a driving force I've discovered. For lots of things, maybe everything! The fear is what turns the tide, what shifts the thought, the mind.

I've seen a lot of things, but I'm going to state the appalling thing is what drives most people. Not to stand against this force that is obviously so easily circumvented if a person were to only use a little effort.

Fear, fear, fear. Say it with me. It's causes things to stop, or to never have started with no real logical explanation or reason.

I think I speak for all of us when I say with utmost courtesy: FUCK YOU FEAR!!!

Having said that: I have to say that if I see those who succumb so easily to this feeble creature, this noun that shouldn't be such, I immediately think less of a person. I like to see people face that fucker and ascend what really is a very trivial and stupid thing.


Mr. J,

I thought about going back to Ms. E. but I don't think that's an option. She has some things to sort out, and they're things that are more of a self-revelation that something someone who loves her can help her with. The only person who can rise above it is her. It breaks my heart at the thought of cutting her loose but unfortunately I have to do it. Otherwise, I'm marooned on Big-Heart Island waiting for a ticket on a boat that no one knows the name of, which the itinerary has washed away, and sun never sets. Marooned.
So, goodbye for now, or maybe forever, Ms. E. There's things I'll always cherish. That sounds very normal, but I promise you that she was so close. So very close, by the hairs on my fucking chin.

Well, to bed, or to the printed word, or to the flickering screen back lighting the racing thoughts in your brain. You understanding son of bitch.

Peace, for us all if you could. To bring comfort or release to those around the world who need it. Did nature, or God(s), or whoever created us contemplate the horrible nature of being such a conscious species would entail?

Adieu, mon ami.

Point and Shoot

:: 2013 15 December :: 11.08 pm

Desolation is a lonely place.

You can describe in prose, and use words to shape it.

But, just like a cold breeze, you'll never feel the full effect unless you're right there in the moment.

Even for a moment; a cold breeze feels like the end of it all.

Point and Shoot

:: 2013 3 December :: 11.45 pm

The way out is through, but I can't get through.

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2013 24 November :: 2.56 pm

It doesn't matter what's my name.
I don't seek fame.
Eye seek your lobe.
May I probe
your brain? Penny
for your thoughts? Any
way you'd let me in?
I could show you then.
Let's combine our synapses, our souls, our beauty.
Let's bring this planet up or down, it's our duty.
But, we can only be one.
Either way, we'll have won.

Point and Shoot

:: 2013 23 November :: 4.50 pm

You're probably reading this thinking,
"Omg, what is this guy all about?"
But, I'm sure some of this is sinking.
Because both our lives have reached a drought.

Not the kind that involves water, mind you.
Not the kind that makes your crops shrivel.
The sort that regards groups of two.
That want to be enlightened in the world's drivel.

Enlightened in a clicky sort of way.
The way fingers fit in between each other.
Like the colorful leaves on an autumn day.
Fall from the same branch, and lay on top one another.

So, before you go off, seeking more.
Know, that I know that you're here for the same reason.
You're looking for a word, like adore, or paramour.
The one that stands true regardless of the season.


Point and Shoot

:: 2013 21 November :: 6.55 pm

The glory is all used up, use what's left...
Hey, you, you're still here? I'm glad, because you're beautiful, digital face overwhelms me with joy and memory. The glory, it's been used, it has holes and there's plenty of new ones sitting on the shelf. But, I'm not ready to open those packages.
Look, I remember the smiling faces, the aspirations, and the hopes and dreams. They rest with you.
What takes place when the glory is used up? Glory: an adolescent thing by nature.
Duty? Maybe?
Mr. J., I'm gonna let you in. I was let go from my job. But, it was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because I relinquished, and then the old me came back and embraced me. And it wasn't glory I felt, but possibly...duty.
I'll let you decide. You mull it over.
Yeah, I know, you can't stay long. For now, bonne soir monsieur, vous et l'amore de la mon vie. Parce que, vous exitez.
To the memory of the smiles of the people who meant the most to me but didn't know it. To Vivers and Teresa, my goddesses. To the infant brother I helped raise. To the twenty year old me that you've chronicled and frozen in time so well. The wings are burned, but I have my legs.

- Friend

3 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2011 10 June :: 3.07 am

Burnt the wing...burnt it bad...
Dearest, dearest, Mr. J. How I've forgotten the solace you once brought my aching soul. My love for you has brought me back to the place of my younger years. Where I smoked cigarettes, and threw insults upon your ever beckoning and understanding binary ears.
I sit here now, marveling at the fact that you still exist.

I sit with greying temples, and a young offspring.

I set the sun in my aim, and flew too high. On my descent, I've made and done some beautiful things, and am shielding my face from the ground below. Hoping my arms will give themselves to cause of saving the rest of me.

I tell you when I reach the bottom, hopefully it'll be river that will swallow me whole. And I'll float to a better place.

I can only hope.

But, it's late. And you've got your life ahead of you starting now.

Your friend.

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2007 6 November :: 2.56 am

TMFA = To Many Fucking Acronyms...
Lol, the Jessa and Andy show? That's definitely a "wtf". Well, hello Mr. J. I see you with those shady eyes. Wanting me to fill your belly with delicious digital flavor. I've come to say absolutely...sure. Why the fuck not. I think the last time I was on this site, well, I WEREN'T doing so fucking good. Or maybe it was just because I was still a teenager. It seems so long ago. High school. Now that I look back on it. It was a lot of fun. I miss a lot of things and a lot of people. And just as I thought, things between the latter have fallen apart, I realize some people still use this site! Place: "wtf" (/emotabonics).

Err, where do I start. I'm employed at steelcase cleaning office buildings. I would have a better job but I took the summer off and blew a bunch of cash that I shouldn't have. I'm a pfc in the army (ok national guard) as an engineer. Which means I go once a month and build walls on a shitty installation. I have a wonderful and amazingly cute girlfriend named Jess. (Not the one with the show) And some minor heart problems due to stress. Jokes on me. It's not that bad of a life. And I'm hoping to improve some things. But, it's mine and you can't have it. So fuck you. Utility flask. Martha Stewart. Mofo. To be honest besides the whole six mons. of getting my ass kicked by drill sergeants my life has kinda settled down. And so has my demeanor. After reading this little comments I've posted in my more angsty days. I can see the differences and reflect and (reverie <------FUCK! I Misspellled thaat werd!) in the fact that I can see myself growing. Funny shit. So...bleh. And all that shit I used to say.

Time for bed you no-moving-parts, mechanically literate, server in Andy's aparment, mothafuckerpussarex.

4 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2005 1 October :: 4.26 pm

Working at Star now. Is that any better?

Point and Shoot

:: 2005 6 September :: 3.07 am

Dubayu Tee Ef...
Fuck. geh. What the fuck have I been doing! It's time to seize oppurtunity. No more procrastination.

3 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2005 8 August :: 4.32 am

Double sided breast tape...
Hello...Mr. Journal.
Blahity. blahity. blahity.
Still working at Wendy's. I seem to be running into a lot of people I haven't seen in some time. They all seem to come up to me and go "You workin'. Oh, yeah, where?" That's where I interject and sigh, a yes, and a Wendy's. Then I light up and cigarette and stomp out whatever authority or dignity I was holding during that conversation.

Oh, and the ladies. Ha. mofucka's. I've never had some much success and so much pathetic loss. In, well, probably since the last time I put some effort in this shit. Heh. I remember back in the day when I'd try to figure this whole thing out. But, I'm down right stumped.
Me: "You have a boyfriend."
Bystandard: "Well"...pause as she sucks in a deep breath, and I slap myself in the face waiting for the inevitable life story, "he pisses me off. blah. blah. We broke up. blah. blah. He doesn't ever (insert adjective here that has either to do with shallow displays of affection or overall acknowledgement). I still love him, want to marry him, will you just fuck me to make him jealous.
Me: So, I was kinda lookin' to go have some pizza or a movie. You know, since this is kinda like the first time I've ever talked to you.

bleh. whatever. smoke some stoogers and bang my head on the wall.
fuckity fuck fucker fuckmook.
Saw Ms. K at the pondscum-atorium. She's got a ball and chain. I don't know why she still talks to me. I'm not going to try.
Let's see how things go within a couple months. I'm hopeful.

Well, the hay has a restraining order on you, so try the sheets...for hitting. g'night or morning. Hello. goodbye...

3 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2005 3 March :: 2.42 am

Yama's, Llamas, could somebody oil the macaroni gears in my noodle?...
Holy Fuck, Mr. J! Is that you. You decomposed, digitally bearded, open shirt bastard.

Let me pull the thumb out my ass and tell you a taley waley.
It's starts on...whoa, somewhere in July. C'est possible?
click, pop, rewind.
I'd just broken up with Jess, and gotten thrown on my ass. Fucking great. >>Restart<< Now I'm living in Cedar. Things are fucked up as always. Always will be. A bunch of big fucking delusional circles. Nothing ever good. Right? Got another job at the same franchise. Different owner, different policy, different people. I'd forgotten what it's like to live in a majorly white community. Pssh. j/k.
Eh, let's see. I was a wreck. I had these big purple circles around my eyes. It was terrible.
Fast forward>>Ms. K.
A few days after being thrown out. I had the reassuring visitation of an old friend and spark. And though we only spent, like, a day together. I thought things were going quite well. But, difficulties will be difficulties and I'm an asshole.
Thus, not only was I in shitty shape. The 'ol stars orbited my head. Because I'm an asshole.
Fast forward>>
I was thrown out by mom. It was all about stupid shit. Really fucked me up again. Blah. blah. Spent the night on US 131. A rest stop between the rockford and cedar exits. I stayed up the whole night writing stories and shit. It sucked.
Fast forward>>
Nothing much happens. I spend about three hundred dollars a month replacing parts on my Oldsmobile P.O.S.. It's kinda funny. Old people have left, new people have come. Ms. K's seeing Mr. R. I don't know how to feel about that. Everyone's so mixed about my collection of friends. Scenario time...not today. Heh.
Fast forward>>
Ms. M, Ms. C, and Ms.T, and all been very patient with my ass. Thank ya' ma' bitches! I'm the "dude". And I've been skimping out on my "dude" duties. Which is sad, because these are the people that someday, and even right now, I'll be jealous of. Sigh.
Twenty years...still no GED. Just an explicit case of madness. It's quite splendid. mwah ha ha ha!
Any who, Mr. J. The night is old, the day is gone, pull those covers over your silicon body, and don't forget to wear underpants. Yak!,

4 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 8 June :: 2.05 am

Synonyms for procreation?...


4 Shots | Point and Shoot | Random Journal