Thursday, May 18, 2006


Why I Don't Drive

It's my day off, and I'm wondering if my new found chemical solution isn't without it's small print. I seem to be in a tired fog when I'm not doing something. I guess my body is still getting used to things. Certain effects remind me of when I was working alot back east. I would get home from work too tired to do much of anything. Me and the ex would just sit in front of the tv, both too tired.
I've been thinking again, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm a pain in the ass to anyone who tries to be my friend.
Why? Beacuse I don't drive.
I took the test twice in high school and failed both times. I just never had the fever to get behind the wheel. My Dad put me off driving early, he drives like he's freaking Dale Earnhardt Jr. It scared me as a kid. I didn't want to be that way. Also, blame "Blood On The Highway". I didn't want the responsibility of being in control of a ton of metal going 55 miles per hour. I'm neurotic as it is. Imagine me behind the wheel? Please....
I bum rides everywhere, anything fun happens and it's too much of a pain in the ass to come get me. I'm the albatross, koo koo ka choo.
And the fun part is I wonder why my phone doesn't ring. Go figure!
Hey, I know I'm a pain in the ass, but I bring beer with me! ok?

D-

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Wednesday, May 17, 2006


Little, Round, and White
Current mood: tired

So, at least I wasn't singing "Rocketman" with my pants down doing my William Shatner impersonation.
At first it sort of crackled acrosss my frontal lobe like static coming off a shag rug. It felt like I'd had a beer before lunch for a little while, I was nice to everyone (even stupid people), the focus of my world was a bit more squared up. I was sweaty but everyone was because of the damn AC being off. It was kind of like the volume of the usual depressive shit had been turned down some. As the day wore on I got real tired and only because I had to see a friend for a little while that I'm still upright.
Now I am officially without anyone who will call me to hang out.
But what else is new huh?

D-


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Tuesday, May 16, 2006


Late Mother's day presents
Current mood: content

Mission Impossible 3 would have been a better movie if Tom Cruise hadn't been in it. Which isn't to say it's a bad movie. It's a pretty decent film for a summer film. The director J.J. Abrams, who created Alias, brought a familiar bag of tricks and tried to humanize all the stuff from the first three M:I movies. One thing is having a romance for Cruise's character that was more convincing than the one he currently has in real life. Abrams deserves a medal for that alone. Guns, gadgets, some cool action sequences, and "Capote" torturing Scientology's favorite son. I give it 3 stars.
Took my Mom to see it as part of her Mother's day present (the other part was letting her pick out a pair of shoes) since I worked sunday. I love doing things like that because lord knows my Dad squeeks by on the bare minimum. I also got her a pound of See's Candy, so I think I made up for it being a day late.
Also went to the doctor today, that went ok. Went home with a bag of samples which I hope works out well...
Long day, had one beer and it made me woozy. That and it's too damn hot for my tastes. Bring on the fog!
Overall a positive day, nothing really to gripe about (which is rare for me)
Plus a good friend of mine is breaking up with her asshole boyfriend, so if she reads this: You deserve the best. Kinda like me, only taller and (waaaaayyy) less neurotic.Oh, and with more money. Doesn't live with his parents. Better job too! Um, what am I leaving out. Younger than me....
Ok, I just bummed myself out. Time for another beer

D-

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Monday, May 15, 2006


mood ninjas, swing dancers, and half eaten BK

It's funny, or maybe not if you think about it, but I don't feel depressed all the time. It skulks around in my heart, hiding behind half digested Burger King, then strikes me when I least want it. Kind of like if Robert Smith, lead singer of the Cure, were a ninja...of, uh, depression. A black mood you didn't want because you felt ok just a minute ago. It happens at work, late at night. It will be a thought, or just a feeling, then it sneaks in and stays like an unwanted house guest. If a house guest stayed over every fucking day several times a day. Dressed as a ninja, in a '80s prog rock band.
Bet you won't hear "It's friday, I'm in love" the same way ever again.
I have highs and lows, moods like drunk swing dancers. Bobbing around like fluffers on a bad porn movie and sucks just as hard.
When I was in high school the school nurse sent me to a counceling group after I said I had thoughts about suicide. I was sitting in a circle listening to these other kids who had horror stories for lives. I couldn't describe what was going on with me. I felt like a shitheel. It wasn't like my Mom beat me and my dad was an alcoholic. I just felt like shit all the time. It would come and go but it stayed around enough to ruin my life.
"Snap out of it!" "cheer up!" *pat on the head* Good-day!
A friend told me tonite, to paraphrase very loosly, that life is an eternal struggle and fighting instead of folding makes tomorrow easier.
I guess that also includes, in my case, fighting my demons.
Nah, I'm not folding, even if my hand is for shit right now, there's always tomorrow.

D-

Currently listening :
Figure 8
By Elliott Smith
Release date: By 18 April, 2000

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Sunday, May 14, 2006


inanimate objects
Current mood: annoyed

I have become that guy.
That movie "Punchdrunk Love"
That guy who trashes places because he's so mad at his own inadequate social skills?
Today I forearmed a plaster wall.
A few weeks ago I put my fist into a toilet tissue dispenser.
I remember when the movie came out on dvd. I was with my ex and we watched it together. She loved it so much I bought her a used copy. When we divvied up our possesions she gave it to me. We would have Al Pacino nights, she let me have most of them. I haven't watched any one of them since I've been home. Too many memories.
I connected with Adam Sandler's character then but never thought I'd get that bad. My failures have become big neon signs reducing me to brute acts on inanimate objects. It's lucky I haven't busted a knuckle.
But hey, at least when people ask me what's wrong I'll have something to tell them.
I can't keep anything anymore. Friendships, friendly aquantences, my sanity, bits of my heart torn away from me by stuggling to keep it all together. I can't even keep a smile on my face for more than a second or two. What do people think of me? I shudder and expect the worst.
Maybe I need some time off. A Way, Straight GONES-ville, by myself.
I should sleep, I hate Sundays

D-

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Friday, May 12, 2006


Gunpowder Ruminations
Current mood: contemplative

In a few days I'll be going to a doctor to get some happy pills. But until then I shall be ranting about things that dwell in my diseased mind late at night.
It might disturb some people but I think about suicide alot.
Not so much that I'll do it. I mean the thing that always stops me is having a family member find my...remains. In all practicality I should have done such a thing when I was living back east. It would have been easier then. I was having a breakdown after my girlfriend broke up with me. I could have just disappeared into the Baltimore night. I could have died of a cocaine overdose while getting a lapdance. Ah, the American Dream
When you feel you don't have a choice but to either keep on hurting inside and living and having it all go away...well let's say suicide becomes a plan B in your mind.
I am nothing if not a thinker, so I have come to a conclusion that a bullet in the head is the best way. Pills can be pumped out of you if you get found before they take effect. Hanging is an inexact science and you could spend minutes feeling it all before death. Or be a vegetable platter and have religious swine fighting over whether to unplug you or not.
I've always had an afinity for handguns. My Dad taught me to shoot when I was 12 or 13. We had an old .22 cal single action revolver and we shot it until the damn thing broke. When that happened we bought a newer one, a 9mm beretta. A decent gun but more expensive to shoot.
Of all the reading I've done, something in the .45 ACP (that stands for Automatic Colt Pistol for you people who don't know things like these) and higher caliber range would be ideal to get the job done. Placement is the key though. Putting the damn thing in your mouth is tricky. The round could just exit out the back of your throat, snag some nerves in your neck, and end up paralyzed. Nobody wants that. Shooting yourself in the heart leaves the window open for paramedics to save you. Shoot yourself with something lower than a .45 and the bullet will sometimes not go through your skull. .38s have just mushroomed (I've seen pictures) just short of entering the brainpan.9mm round is so fast ( it was made to be a submachine gun round after all) it could go through and through and not do enough damage.
This is not to say that I would do it, ok?
People read about Adolph Hitler all the time and not become Nazis. When you're depressed you think about things like this. It's the back door to putting up with your diseased head and heart. It's the final solution. I'm sure even people who have terrible ailments think about, plot for, that moment when they can't take it anymore.
I've had more of those moments in my life lately. That life would be better for the people around me if I wasn't there. That there is no future beyond this point. That I'm always going to hurt like this. That It's always going to be this way. That I'm going to be this maladroit, bumbling, brain-sick, ugly, inept asshole for the rest of my life and it would be better if I saved myself the pain of it all and blow my fucking head off.
It's like flipping 'god' the bird. Returning the one thing you were given for free. It would be sexy if it wasn't so cowardly. And you shit yourself when you die. Think of the smell. Like fried ass in bowel sauce.
The impact on the people you do like is also something to consider. What would your Mom think? Or your Dad? Or even nieces and nephews? That guy you know who's always macking on the ladies? He's at the funeral talking to that girl you like at work. Letting her cry on his shoulder. He might get lucky while you're rotting in the ground. The bastard. You don't want that do you?
Funerals cost a shit-load of money too. Leaving your relatives with the burden might be the final revenge on them, but, you're not there to relish in it. I choose to be cremated. It's cheaper than buying a piece of real estate in a corpse condo only to lay there around people who you don't know. Guarenteed some goth kid will be sitting on your tombstone drinking beer 2 nights later. Probably trying to get some girl who has a safety pin stuck in her face to play tonsil hockey. The smearing of twin sets of white makeup and eyeliner ensues. You can't even enjoy looking up at it 'cause YOU'RE DEAD!
But I digress...
I don't see that many people showing up. Most of the people I know work weekends.
Family throws ashes into the sea, dines at Chili's, goes home, gives my stuff to the Goodwill, fini.
I'm probably wrong about all of this. People tend to be looked at as better people dead than they were alive. The Nixon Effect. You don't think of all this when you're in pain. You're thinking of yourself and the people you're hurting in your life. Like "It's A Wonderful Life", but without the angel in it.
I'm done rambling for tonite.
Be well and Be kind,

D-

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Thursday, May 11, 2006


They know you enough
Current mood: morose

They know you enough
To make assumptions
As to who you are
You yearn for connections
To other people
Your nature makes it hard
You've been a solitary dude
Most of your life
Not a social animal
All you have is your limited charm
And bits of charity
To get by on
Something went wrong
You can feel it
That sixth sense you grew in school
Whispers and stares
The changes in tenor when you approach
The smiles becoming damningly polite
What did I do?
What did I say?
It's the cost of being around people
I fear
They know you enough
To discard you
It was the party maybe
When the alcohol got to me
Should have known better
Should have kept to myself
Keep it silent
Keep it safe
Unfortunately alone
They know you enough
To make you hurt

Currently listening :
Home to Oblivion: Elliott Smith Tribute
By Christopher O'Riley
Release date: By 11 April, 2006

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Wednesday, May 10, 2006


Dear God, it's me....

Dear God,
I know I haven't talked to you in a while. Probably because you haven't exactly been vocal in my life. I mean, if you hurt like I have in my life, when life has become such a burden you don't want to go on, you'd think I'd get a kind word or two. I used to ask you for guidance or advice all the time. I used to lay in my bed, sleepless and talk to the ceiling. One day I came to realize that if you do exist, you're not going to talk to me.
I just want to know what I have done to deserve feeling like this. I have hurt people I care about because of all the pain inside me. Is it too much to ask why? Why do you let all of this go on? Why do bad people live good lives and good people live tortured lives?
I don't presume to think I'm a good person anymore. I have found out this the hard way. I try to live my life by treating people like how I want to be treated. I've failed. It's all become too much. I'm not the man I want to be. I just want to be someone that I'm not embarrased by. Instead I'm an asshole like the rest.
No, I don't blame you for my mistakes. You just never talk to me. I just got tired of it all being me.
You could just be a collosal hoax played upon anyone who didn't want to believe that we are alone. That all we do after we die is rot in the ground. God is an idea that someone up there has got it all under control. That there's a reason to it all. It's a beautiful lie, or is it?
If you see it all (the death, pain, madness, torture, and lies) and do nothing, what kind of person are you?
Well, anyway, drop me a line if you get this. I know if you do exist you're a busy guy.
Peace,
Daniel

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Tuesday, May 09, 2006


A partial retraction...
Current mood: contemplative

I'd like to take the opportunity to print a partial retraction to an earlier blog I had written.
Upon further reflection I think the idea put forth by someone I know i.e. "Perception = Reality" has some weight to it.
At one time people thought that the earth was flat and if you sailed a ship beyond the horizon it would fall off the edge. Of course this was proven false when someone had the testicular fortitude to sail beyond that. Today if someone walked up to you and said that life ended beyond the horizon you'd think they were developmentally disabled and had lost track of their special bus.
But, many people believed it so for the most part in their perception it was so and anyone was crazy to think otherwise. Maybe even pulled into a courtyard and stoned, or burned at the stake.
When it comes to people it becomes more difficult to judge, but, superficially the rule also had weight. Most people don't have the time or inclination to search beyond what they see.
Anything different becomes scary, anything not of the norm becomes alarming. We are all ruled by what we see and believe things that aren't true just because someone told us so. Why, because people are lazy and dismissive of things or people they don't understand.
It's not just people they don't know either. People will lie to your face and stab you in your back once it's turned. People you once thought as friends will one day look at you like you're a space alien and avoid you like the plague because they were lied to by others.
Smile on the face, deception in the heart.
The human animal doesn't have a factual thread of thought in it's brain meat.
It's all tied through perception, and through that reality is formed. And unless that perception is shattered by actual fact : the lie lives in all of us.
I think it was in an episode of X-files that had the phrase "Believe the Lie"
Most people are more than happy to do so. That's why my friends statement is true, unfortunately. Human frailty.
It's true, like so many depressing realities in life. It seems like the only thing you can change in this world is your mind. It's not 'waffeling", it's thinking.
Oh well, my two cents...
D-

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Sunday, May 07, 2006


randomness
Current mood: tired

My life would be good
If it wasn't me living it
All the building blocks are there
For someone who knew how
To piece it together
Life is becoming like tv
I look at it
It happens around me
It doesn't know I'm there
Like I can reach out
And tap the picture tube
I can't feel or taste anything
It's all gone horribly wrong
Dark static fills my heart
If I scream would it make a noise?
I'd be scared if I wasn't so tired
Draw the covers
Turn out the light
Reality can wait
To beat me up tomorrow

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