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:: 2003 9 April :: 8.59 pm

Wayne, the newt, of newt records...
Well, today would be the 3rd time we've been to the land. We spend most the time picking up old rusted metal garbage and cinder blocks that have been left by the previous owner. It's cool though, 12 and half acres isn't bad. The house won't even take up half an acre. I've never really lived on that much land. I'm used to my house on like 2 acres, or the townhouses we'd live in down in Grand Rapids before I moved up here. It's cool.

Got's me a new car, but I wouldn't call it fucking new. A '88 Chevy Celebrity. It sucks ass. And just like the land, the previous owner had filled it full of shit that took me two hours to clean. Fucking, bottles of liter fluid, charcoal, beer cans all over the place, a fucking portable grill, and little mice nests. It needs a new suspension, but my uncle's taking care of that tomorrow. It'd be nice if I didn't have to roll the window down to open the door though.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 6 April :: 10.27 pm

Suck my ass perm gnomes, now who gets the last laugh...
Got a haircut today. It's about an inch and half long. Literally, so much weight lifted off my shoulders.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 31 March :: 7.59 pm

Straw hats are for people in business attire...
Earlier, my mom asked me to help her move some of the stuff out of the house. (Weíre moving the 13th) And my exact thoughts were:
Fuck that. Here it is 6:30, and Iím waiting for your ass to get home. So I can continue my tedious consistency of making sure the clothes on the ground are clean, so I can wear them tomorrow and look like I jumped out of a dumpster. I have about 6 more hours of nothingness. Not wanting to go to bed before 12 or 1 or 4 in the morning thinking that I donít want to live in the next day. Waking up an hour after I fell asleep, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, going to school where I sit for an hour and a half waiting for the damn thing to start. (Commence random kick in the balls, by random person) Sitting in class, knowing your failing 6 classes without effort, and being ok with it and pissed at yourself for not caring. Coming home watching the baby until the old lady decides to come home. 6 or 7 o'clock whenever she feels like, ďworkĒ she says. Coming home with a half empty box of smokes, and soggy look of solidified tears. Sheís in the same disposition Iím in.
Itís 7:30 now. Iím cooling down, after 3 cigarettes, and rapid couple of paces around my house. And what do I come down to. Iím an 18 year old living in a 36, or 40, or 50 year old life. Iím the oldest male in the house, (including Eric who is 37, heís the father of number 3, he comes around every so often, drinks a 12 pack or a bottle of Southern Comfort, makes an ass out of himself, then falls asleep on the couch.) I take care of kids, I have to worry about debts, my momís and mine. I feel like Iím married. (Donít take that in an incestual, or perverse way.) My momís problems, are our problems. So, I take care of a baby for who knows how many hours, only in priming myself for the (what seems like) infinite minutes, hours, months of my life spent listening to problems from someone 18 years older to me. ďIím 18, I canít talk you through everything.Ē
Thatís just it, 18, going on 36, or 40, or 50.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 29 March :: 9.25 pm
:: Music: Linkin Park - Breaking the Habit

Seratonin's only friend...
These days are made up of numerous trips to malls, where the primary goal is to piss off as many people as possible. Or playing guitar. Or wondering where life has gone. Or other things that I haven't started thinking about until I adopted this cynical paradigm on life. The realizations I've come up with against my self for the last however many months.
Yesterday, meijers, malls, theaters. Today, waiting for calls, and miscellaneous others.
Where did all this start? I don't like it, and I don't like me.

1 Shot | Point and Shoot


:: 2003 24 February :: 9.25 pm
:: Music: Smashing Pumpkins - Glass and the Ghost Children

D'orio...
...I don't know anyone. I'm just acquinted with them. No one knows me. They know a person I created that bypasses all the things I'm afraid in myself. Why did it take me so long to realize this...
Deep down, I don't think I've ever actually authentically laughed. It's just a guise, a deception to not only me, but to the people I talk with.
Boring day, full of more talks with Mr. A, more buying minors cigarettes, more hollow jokes, and unintended intentions. Heh...

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 21 February :: 4.46 pm
:: Music: Smashing Pumpkins - Thirty Three

Look into the bottom of a cd to see reality...
Got drunk yesterday. Bacardi and gatorade. The first time since I was a sophomore. Not something I don't think I'll be doing in quite awhile. I did it for the wrong reasons, but hey, I'm half native american, and that's what they're good at right?

So, after getting inebriated I fell asleep for the remainder of the day, and that's about 12 hours of sleep. Yeah. So, today, I had a major hang over for the majority of the school day. I'm feelin' kinda goofy, not bad, just a little incoherent, sluring the ol' words and shit. Amusing stuff.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 18 February :: 10.02 pm
:: Music: Sigur Ros - Staralfur

We are his script...
I could die right now. I don't know what it is, what kind of conglomerate of chemicals I've imbibed or perculated the capillaries in my lungs. Maybe it was that stove cover I burnt, couldn't tell. It just feels like I've obtained something in myself these last couple of days. Something to perpetuate and sling into my proximal self desire's orbit. A fulfillment. I know it's an conditional thing that will leave my disposition as soon as I wake in the morrow, but, I'm enjoying it while I can. At least I'll have the memory of it to brighten my days in the future.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 13 February :: 8.27 pm
:: Music: Incubus - Version

Lose the bet...
Woops, I change my mind.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 10 February :: 9.08 pm

Effectix Synaptix...
Four days of coughing, hacking, grabbing my chest in various amount of fluctuating pain, running to the bathroom on account of throwing up, throwing up...sickness. Not just any sickness either, I have pharyngitis.
That wasn't the bad part, no, the bad part was the isolation, the delirium, bedsores, lack of nicotine, lack of routine that came in a large ball of rice paper and coated in a starlet of wax paper.
Numerous times I've had dreams, about 8 or 9 (which is more than enough), that were ludacrous even in the magnitude of dreams. Four days, four days, four days...

The Dreams: One dream was of my dad, it was me living a lifestyle as an orphan knowing my dad had just died. I seemed to have been walking around town for hours just reflecting and crying about my dad being dead. The weird thing was, I wasn't more than 9 or 10 years old. Then someone or some voice kept saying in my head, your next, your next, your next, your going to die... I woke in tears, not knowing where I was, it was seven o'clock at night. My mom had taken my brother to his basketball practice. I was alone, I had a fever of 100.9, I was coughing, I was crying, it was hell. I'm not one for crying because of dreams, or trying to decipher anything out of them. 'Cause, well, I don't have very many.
The one before that was me at some resort location, on a paradisical island. We were all drinking or something like that, we being me and some other people of annonmity. Then some girl came over, and we all made bets to measure our penises. The girl had her own official penis measuring board. She was, like, a official penis measurer. Well, it became my turn, and I could feel the panic in me, in my dream. But, it was weird, because, what did I have to be afraid of. Then it lead to the "dad" dream. Fucked up night. There was a couple others. They're very vague now, one was very like that movie "Chocolat" with fuckin' Johnny Depp in it. The thing is, every dream I had these four days was so real, it felt more a like a delusion or hallucination than anything. What ever, I need a fucking smoke.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 3 February :: 7.32 pm
:: Music: New Found Glory - Forget My Name

Youthful injustice...
What am I doing?
I'm missing so much. The things I long for, but I'm to afraid to commit too? Can I still do it? Fuck that, tomorrow, things will change. Err, hopefully.

2 Shots | Point and Shoot


:: 2003 24 January :: 6.41 pm
:: Mood: fuck-if-I-know
:: Music: 311 - Amber

Jumbled months of swamp drownings, or the real meaning of alternative lifestyle...
THE longest week in the history of long weeks that involve school, and taking care of stupid drooly babies. Plus I have this flap of skin on the side of my cheek that feels like a tumor, or some unnatural growth.

Lot's-o-learning has taken place over that tedious span of five days. Lot's-o-things about the true (the grass is greener) motives, feelings, angles on personality about friends. And then I talk to her, and talking to her makes me feel better to not talk at all.
Me:
- Dull
- Unopinionated
- Uninteresting
- Big Mooch
- Lot's-o-other stuff
Well, that's how this week has made me feel.
The conversations in M-A-th class don't help.
Fuck-fuck-Fuck

Oh, Zwan: Mary Star of the Sea. - January 28

1 Shot | Point and Shoot


:: 2003 18 January :: 7.17 pm
:: Music: Tweaker - Happy Child

High cheekbones, drooping lips...
"Happy Child"
I imagine my hands are clean
I am revitalized by things unseen
I begin a dialogue with the road
toothless, hopeful, about to explode...

how could I have ever been so lucky
to wake up looking in her face
and see the flowers she put Ďround the room
britening an otherwise crumbling place

she told me that jesus loves me
but I never knew who jesus was
some kid somewhere fucked up
well isnít this what a savior does?

donít cry
donít feel
donít die
because death is not real
itís good
itís yours
and it should come when things have run their course

I wanted her melted up inside me
all the tears and the smiles shed for me
sheíd disappear to the world around me
everything to be a powerful memory
...(so I could carry all that weíd been with me)

so I brought her to the swamp she loved so well
where I gently placed her in it
I brought her soul to ease with kisses
and I said to her as Iís about to begin it

donít cry
donít feel
you wonít die
because I donít think deathís real
itís good
itís mine
and it should be
at your heels all of the time

and she said:

ďand whereís the sky for me now? its good that she sings
and who will take it down? the freedom it brings
and drape it all around me her voice is my very
head
every cloud and cosmo for a gown?Ē

Iím a good kid
old style
a happy child
and Iím never going to have to do that again
but if I want to, I can

donít cry
donít feel
donít die
because death is not real
itís good
itís ours
like the sun
like the worms
like the wind
like the flowers

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 13 January :: 10.58 pm

You can't take that away from me...
Sigh.
I feel so alone in this world.
The gradual transition into adulthood has so many exposures that contradict each other. Life itself is one big fucking paradox.

Point and Shoot


:: 2003 12 January :: 12.38 am

A life in digital...
I had a hour and a half debate about the redered fundamentals of religion in general, with my uncle. I've decided that I'm going to stay in my position in not believing in anything. The whole thing seems like a conglomerate of pure pressure, and social institutionalization. The only reason, at the moment, that I'd believe in anything. Would be to stop the ostricization against myself from others. And, that's not the right reason.

2 Shots | Point and Shoot


:: 2003 9 January :: 1.12 am

Almost never...
Can't sleep. I downed a caplet that should aid my infamous insomniatical behaviorisms. Just waitin' for that little baby to grab a side of my intestinal wall and fuse its chemical compounds with mine. Then he'll pull out his shovel and create another chemical reaction that'll tell my mid-brain to release Mrs. Hormone (her maiden name was Mrs. Sleep Inducer) into my blood stream. He said it shouldn't take more than half and hour.

This weeks been pretty crazy. I pretty much only slept about one nights worth. Monday and Tuesday. No sleep at all. That's a bitch. This unwanted non-sleep precedence has made me a little blahty blah for the last couple of days too.

Pretty boring week for the most part. bleh...

Point and Shoot

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