Since Isabel is the only one who (occasionally) reads this: Isabel Hussey is such a pretty lady! She's my best friends and I've a super crush on her.

Blerg

Dear Mortal Coil:
I'm sorry, but we have to break up; it's not you, its me.
--
Underwent a rather unexpected caprice last weekend: I decided to quit smoking cigarettes. It's much more difficult than I though. Irritable, unpredictable, and fucking always hungry. It kind of sucks. On a plus side I find myself having more energy than before, so I suppose that's a plus. I did not excogitate on the subject much; one night I just said enough. Only been four days, and I kind of already regret it. I told someone who's opinion of me matters that I was done, so there's no going back. Don't want to seem weak, or being not composed of strong will, or what have you. The strangest thing is I catch myself getting up, and sometime making it all the way to the door, to go outside and have a smoke.

These are my thoughts right now

I like this blog 'cause it may as well be a private journal. Only like 3 people besides me have seen it.
So I finally figured out why I love Punk Rock so much. My emotional spectrum is very limited; mostly I'm sad, sometimes I'm happy, usually I'm a pretty pissed off individual, rarely I can love but it's hard for me to admit it. Now, music can pretty much only make me feel sad, or pissed of and self righteous. I prefer the latter so I will blast Black Flag, Crass, old school Against Me!, before I listen to The Smiths, The Cure and the like.
Back to me being a sad person. I've done something I never though I would: kept a relationship "long distance." I didn't think it could ever work, but I don't want to end it with this lady. I've known her forever, and she's been my favorite person for a long time and blaaah Blogs are lame, and I like her a lot so there.
No more to say tonight, besides Punk Rock Anarchy.

Release the Bats!!

I'm sitting at my desk, smoking a joint, and listening to The Birthday Party; it's a really great combo. I just started listening to The Birthday Party, Nick Cave is a powerful singer. The song "She's Hit" is wicked; the whole song is lead by Cave hardly singing and backed by intense, haunting music. Check it out if you have a soul, and are into post-punk.
I woke up extra early today in order to go to work. It was seven o'clock, I had my cereal and coffee, and I just put on an episode of Strangers With Candy to watch while I ate. I wasn't five minutes into the show when my dad pokes his head into the door and tells me not to come in today.
"We'll get 'em tomorrow" he says as he shuts the door, now officially departing for this working day. It's snowing and very slippery out so he didn't want me to risk it. I'm okay with not going in today. Don't really know what I'm going to do today; I'd like to get some reading done and play more Chrono Crusade. We'll see.
T-T-F-N

God knows I've Got To Live Mine

Haven't written anything on this for a while.

I've been switching between books a lot lately. My "primary" book has been "The Once and Future King" by T.H. White. It's really enjoyable, and I like that I'm finally reading a book in the Arthurian Legend. I've only got through the first three books; my favorite so far has been the third, "The Ill-Made Knight." The one where Lancelot shows up and screws Guenevere. In between reading that I've taken to brushing up on Lovecraft. I just finished his novella "At the Mountains of Madness" which is really engrossing. "The Dunwich Horror" is still my favorite Lovecraft story. Been making my way through two comic series as well: "Buffy Season Eight" and "Chrono Crusade." The former is a continuation of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" T.V. show, and the latter is a manga. Both are pretty enjoyable, although the Buffy comic is a tad disappointing.

After a break in working, I've taken up to running a CNC again. Still working for Dad, but I have the possibility to be earning a real paycheck soon. Interesting...

Video games! The new Pokemon games come out soon, and I'm beyond excited. Introducing more new Pokemon than any other generation? I'm all about that; I already preordered my copy of White. Started playing Chrono Trigger, and I'm really enjoying it. I love NES-SNES era RPGs.

I'm never any good at concluding shit, so I'll just say good-bye.

Moving On

As of yesterday I no longer attend Salem State University. The process of withdrawal was so easy it was almost a let down; after all the bullshit and red tape that institution has put me through, a simple two minute phone call was all it took to get out of it. The only thing I plan on doing in concerns of that school is pay off my debts and get a transcript. If all goes according to plan I'll be attend UMASS Amherst this fall, and after completing my bachelors I'd like to go to Hampshire College to finish my schooling. I hope to one day be a librarian; not at your local public library, I want to hold a position in an academic library. Doing research and assisting others and such. I think I'll really enjoy aiding others in their quest for knowledge.
Lately I've had a dithyrambic pursuit of all things Joss Whedon; I've just finished watching all seven seasons of Buffy (have now moved onto the comics), and am about half way finished with the first season of Angel. I watched both series sporadically when they were on the air, but never really got into them. In high school I watched Firefly, which I loved, and of course I've always been a Toy Story fanatic. There's something about the way he writes and the characters he creates that has sucked me in. I can't get enough.
In other news, I've been reading (and am almost done) with Moby Dick. It's a very good book, but I didn't really enjoy it that much. Herman Melville is a wonderful author who has a real command of the English language, however he has a tendency, like most of his contemporaries, to prattle on and on about nothing much. Now, I know there is more to a book than just story, and I appreciate all the background he gives on the whaling industry, but if you removed everything not pertaining to the plot, the 500 plus page novel would probably only be about 200. It is interesting, however, that Ishmael (who I thought would be the main character) is really nothing more than a silent narrator. All the action of the story is mostly controlled by Ahab. I would say that the main character of the novel is either Ahab or the whale Moby Dick. My favorite part of the novel (so far, I only have about 30 pages left) is when Ahab refuses to abandon his quest for Moby Dick to help his fellow Nantucketer and whaling captain search for his son. This scene really show how mad and devoted Ahab has become in his adventure for revenge. Apparently there's an anime that was made based off the book; I'd like to check it out.
Still looking for a job, nothing promising yet. Still hopeful.

Today, today, today...

I didn't sleep last night; my thoughts were racing pretty much constantly. I wrote a paper on the Romantic poet Coleridge. When I couldn't concentrate I typed my thoughts in a separate word document. Here's what happened.

For me anarchy is less of a political belief and more of a state of mind. Anarchy means living for yourself; it means not believing anything just because you are told. Anarchy means owning who you are and improving yourself with every ounce of your being. Anarchy means freedom. The only problem with Anarchy is that it requires a lot from every person on Earth.

Every time I take adderall I urge to pick up a pair of sticks. The jitteriness and inability to keep my mind focused on one solid thought reminds me of beating the shit out of a drum. Percussion was such an impact on my life in high school; being a part of the marching band gave me the most solid identity. Even to this day (I haven’t drummed in at least two years) I still drum and make beats on everything around me. It’s been ingrained into my personality, and was my introduction to performing music. It scares me to think how something that used to be so important to me has now disintegrated to nothing more than a nervous habit.

If I were to write songs, they would all be lies; I would simply tell stories in my lyrics. They would have no relation to my life—simply a collection of thought for thoughts sake. I would pour that part of myself that I can’t live in my day to day; the crazy, radical, revolutionary ideals that cannot be uttered within the normal constrains of society. I would live the fake life I can’t achieve by making music.

First semester of sophomore year was one of fuck ups. I hardly went to class, I took too many drugs and didn’t seem to care what direction my life was taking. During the depression I blamed many people for whatever troubles I’ve had; I blamed my teachers for my poor grades, the people around me for my depression, and external stress for my excessive partying. I honestly believed these delusions I had constructed in my mind. Upon reflection I realized my fallacy; there is nobody in this world (with few exceptions) you can blame for your life but yourself. If I had done the reading for class, I would have learned, if I had been honest with the people around me I wouldn’t have felt as trapped, and if I hadn’t been running from my problems, I would not have had to turn to vices. Make the most the madness of life and learn from your fuck ups.

Shoes are exactly like life. When you first get them they are fresh and new like a baby; everybody notices them and appreciates them for their beauty. Compliments are constructed and for a brief period of time both shoes and babies are incredibly renowned for their novelty and innocence. Time goes on and both shoes and life get a little dirty. They get beat up by time and slowly fall apart and become ugly. However, there reaches a point in life and shoes when something amazing happens; after all the hardships both gain something very important: integrity. When this point is reached suddenly both become cool again. Past mistakes and grievances are forgiven and shoes and life is once again adored; only this time it’s for what they’ve seen instead of what they haven’t.

“A job is something you can’t stand. I love to read, I love to write, I love to play video games, I love music, I love to organize, I love comics, cartoons, and anime. I hate to work and would never want to make any of these things my career. My dream job is something between the hours of nine to five and that’s it. I want to be able to dream about coming home and doing what I love; I don’t want to be doing what I love at work. No matter how much you love your job it’s nothing but a job, a way to make money.
I want work to be mindless; I want my mind to wonder while I work. Education is work. I study the field that interests me, but I refuse to learn something that I love. Education is structured, and passion is anything but structured. Passion is learned through experience—and not in a class. Because of class I notice faults in authors I used to deem flawless; meaningless, minuscule grammatical flaws now bother me. Because of education I over analyze. An incorrect dash, a period that should have been a semicolon, and a comma that shouldn’t be there, and I am no longer enthralled. The rules that writers must follow—arbitrary to the novel as a whole—distance me from the author and their work.
In the world of literature everything is a symbol for something else. Elm trees symbolize hope, fruit is ALWAYS sex, a woman sewing means she’s faithful, birch trees are hard working—even though they never sweat—everything means sex, except for sex—that means submission. So many symbols, I can’t remember them all, how can the author? How is it possible for every author throughout the history of all written language keep them all straight?”

I wrote this a year ago—my opinion has changed. I feel like this year (and the past few weeks especially) I’ve matured greatly. I now want my life to have more meaning. I do not want to live day by day in a job where I only wait to go home. I want to have an impact on the world; I want to produce something that will influence a stranger. The thought of someone I never knew picking up the fruition of my creative labors and gathering meaning from it fills me with hope. I want to help somebody work through the trials of life. If there is an afterlife and I can look down on the world and see somebody remember me after my death, my soul can know it has a reason to exist.
Also, I tried was too hard to use dashes.