ideas!

A long-time religiously-devout alcoholics anonymous member suffers a painful injury and is prescribed some hydrocodone syrup, a drug he has had long-time engagements with in the past. He suffers from internal conflict and drama in weighing out the benefits and negative but is so stern he refuses to budge, refuses to ever dose himself with such a concoction. He only receives minor support at best from his group and his sponsors and one night, he is in so much pain he prays to god but the pain becomes so severe he goes into shock and dies. somehow it must be subtle yet clear that the syrup would have prevented his death. everything can be fine in moderation, yet he deals in absolutes.

The Chive Farmer's son helps his father with the family chive-farming business but he wants "a bigger piece of the pie". His father is conservative and tells him, "son, your grandpa tried to do that once but I steered him back. this is what we've been doing for so long and we do it the best. it is our family's calling and i expect your support."
son goes behind father's back and attempts to grow another cash crop, Opium. He is successful and tells his father they are a type of Afghani Onion and father believes him. However there are kids from town who hear about the poppies and one night, they milk them all, and it is obvious because they are covered in slits. The father sees this the next night, thinks its vandalism and calls the police. Unfortunately, they are on the son's side of the property, and when the cops investigate they send the son to jail for growing opium poppies.

intro

ive been thinking about learning about believing and knowing that introspection and introspective thought is the most important thing to know
If you can know a man's thoughts, his doubts, his desires, then you know that man, you've captured a piece of his soul
But in the historical and biographical constructs, which typically deal with extroverted events, they they don't place great emphasis on what's going inside the mind. think about what a single tinge of anxiety can do to a great speaker, the multitudes of thought and decisions percolating within the mind can do, what can lead from them. thoughts lead to actions, so they are paths, and many paths can be considered at one time. i imagine a flurry or web of sorts that pan out like a moving map that is constantly reorienting itself, growing or declining, going or ceasing at once; but to actually chart out this map would be as difficult as drawing a map of the internet for the same reasons, constantly flourishing or declining, moving too quickly to be captured in one single image, and if it did, would be immediately obsolete.

anyway, I yearn to modify the introspective experience. I see the soul as a figurative consciousness that can be altered if the pathways to the brain (the seat of consciousness) can also be altered. I am experimenting with Piracetam now. Here is something I've been reading.

I think one reason that the benefits of piracetam in healthy subjects are hard to quantify is due to the nature of the benefits themselves. It's a really subjective thing. How would you quantify beauty or pleasure? If an artist produced more beautiful work after using piracetam, who could document the change? Who could say with scientific certainty exactly how much more beautiful his work became after ingesting the drug for a certain amount of time? How can you weigh creativity? The benefits of piracetam are very subjective but real. For me, what I get is that ideas come to me more readily than before. When I have a tough problem to solve and the usual methods don't work, instead of getting frustrated I may just step back a little and ponder and then two or three possible approaches come to mind, one of which happens to work. My memory seems better and there have been studies showing many memory enhancing benefits from it. It seems to enhance the effects of other drugs slightly.

Other options, if this does not work for me could be Aniracetam or Oxiracetam. I will investigate further.

weeelll iuh

we;ll due to a strange turn of events ive developed a minor psychological problem within my brain like a chemical imagbalance where i may shift from a minor mania, like well tis cvalled a hypomania like a minor manic state and also shift to a minor depression too however this has hade a major impact on my philosophy in life
and i have held it to be true to this day where i believe
in a special, particular kind of balance, not like karma, where you create the happenings, but the happenings that occur upon you work in a sort of give or take system whereas
whence upon a positive, perhaps even ecstatically joyful event mayhaps occur give or take a depressing blunder upon the next day but the powers seem to find a way to balance out in the vice-versa, i should say, whereas the converse holds true - should i be bestowed a negative haze, either in affect or fortune the ball will eventually bounce back toward the opposing field.

marcus you can't blame yourself for feeling bent out of shape when girlie hasn't responded yet.
maybe she lost her phone or is uncomfortable using it right now or somethign weird, i dont know
but point is, even if you two don't cultivate anything anew you lived a wonderful passionate experience and it is
truely yours to keep and to hold on to

when we first met i knew that i would at least end up making out with her, the way we greeted and spoke to each
other. it was kind of funny though because Helen was there and i got her number and want to invite her over as well
perhaps a taste of her for next time. but with Claire, the dancing seemed to last so long, and I was having my
doubts but i'm so glad, marcus, that you decided to hang on! you stayed hydrated, took breaks with Steph to smoke,
heh, and did the right things, i'm so proud of you. your dad would be too.

it felt different from having sex it felt like making love, the way we cuddled around the blanket,
naked bodies
pieces touching warmth
again
anew
get up before noon

everything is fine and cool. last night i was hanging out with B and Jason and Vill B and his ex
girlfriend who he is hooking up with, Ida she is cool and i like her has a temporary friend and i bet if
she wasn't having sex with Will I could make it happen, but I have this cool aura of comfort around her knowing
that there's no pressure to make a move and she can smell that confidence. anyway Will whispered in my ear as he
left to check out a sober living community to stay with Ida while Jason was around because he did something dumb
the night before, apparently asking her to kiss him or something poor guy doesn't get it
i'm just glad from all my social blunders i've learned from them, improved myself and now i can safely say i'm the best i've ever been. i think mom would be so proud of me. i miss her a lot it'd be more incentive to come home. calling dad isn't really fulfilling that need of "calling home", tara seems to do a better job. even though he's happy and having a great time it's just kind of a one-sided conversation and that bugs me.
I wish travel this time of the year wasn't so expensive. god damnit but otherwise life is good and its not just because i'm on Tramadol i'm glad i went to the city today im enjoying the cafe

Wow, well

It's certainly been a long time. I am writing to you today because my head is so clouded, my emotions are so blunted and blurred, I don't know how to feel. I had the night of my life with a woman I can't help but fall for, and have no idea where she is or when I'll see her again, and I'm being stopped short in my pursuit by whimsical aphorisms in the art of dating demanding I "play it cool" to not seem too clingy. I guess it makes sense, I don't want to scare her. I guess I must be coy if I want her to stick around. Generally, from what I know and have observed, getting in too deep will push her away, and acting like I don't need it, or can find someone else in due time will make her want to cling. I want her to cling, so bad, but to do this I must act opposingly. So bizarre the world we live in. We had sex, and I lost the V card. She doesn't know yet. Yep. Played it like a natural. I've had so many experiences granting me inch and inch but this time I just stole the whole nine yards, and I'd do it again and again. But I gotta say, the intercourse really wasn't the best part. I mean, it was good, but with a condom at all I definitely couldn't ejaculate with that sheath on. Which is good in a way, for her, I mean she came twice. So hot and I wasn't even aware of it at the time, only in retrospect. I'll come back to this, it's what's driving me mad. The best part was after she went to clean herself up, the mess I made on her that she loved so much (she seemed to love everything I did, like it was unreal) and wore my blanket like a robe and i held the ends and draped it around us, both of us naked and our bodies just touching, and the feel of her hair and her bush and her tummy and breasts against mine and her butt as she slept, so cute. I couldn't sleep and got up, pulled my arm out from under her, went pee, ate something, tried to get back to sleep but it wasn't working, got up again to lock the door before G opened up, didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
But now I'm just lost. During the affair it felt so normal and right but now in retrospect it was anything but, it was heaven and a dream and so lovely...lovely that's her title on my phone, and she knows about it, I'm gonna call in the evening, if she says I can't come by I left or am about to leave I hope I can stop myself from sounding clingy, I'll just try to say, "Aww...that's too bad! But we'll see each other again before you know it!" with a positive spin. I dunno, maybe just the first part. I should call Helen.
I had such a bounce in my step walking around the mall the other day. Not the uncomfortable skin I'm so used to. In the library now, can't stop looking at other pretty girls, it's never gonna end. I quelled the interest but the interest is never gonna die. But I can't wait to see this girl again, and I can't hide that but it's making me feel so weird today. And yesterday, disappointed, and it was showing and I couldn't help but talk about it with Nik and B and share my interest. Heard some weird stories about girl but don't care. Hungry and derailed, weary-eyed, music isn't helping, i need more, more stuff. Beer and weed don't help either. Ugh. Now I know what all those fucking songs were speaking of.

zzzz

So hard to stay awake! So bland, so dull, so tired. I get my 8 hours each night. Just about eight. Tomorrow I don't have to stay awake, though. Thank goodness. I'm gonna go home and talk to my father a bit. So tired though. And I have to drive home, can't fall asleep on a bus. I hate these phases I've been coming into conflict with. Over the weekend I didn't sleep for shit, but I'm getting all the sleep I need now, so what's going on with me?

My father is so strong.

Today I learned how strong my father really is. His hopes and dreams, his "whys" in life are not too far out of reach, despite seemingly hopeless amounts of debt, poor job offerings and daily injustices at work, options that seem futile, working jobs far below his frame of intelligence and what he is capable of... but he has a "why" and when a man has a "why" in his life he can endure any "how".

I came so close to a breakdown today, when I saw an update to my medical bill sent in, this time it was pink instead of white, when I had paid another $400 to it, they had said I only paid $250 or so. I was as pink as the letter, but I will, I promise to get up earlier and call them tomorrow and explain my case. I have been so reluctant, so emotionally adverse to opening the letters and facing the bills head on, as a coward, not as a man in control of his life, with hands gripping the wheel in the car on the road of how we deal with things. It's dehumanizing. I feel so abused. These people in Virginia or something, screw up on purpose perhaps, to make me and my family suffer. Sure, they're only trying to run a business, and with my split head and future desires to be on top of something, I have at times regrettably been able to equate people and profits. But my "why" will reside in bolstering the people...not as some socialist Marxist agenda, but as a way, when I see a country ran by corporations rather than by government, as a child of the worst economic crisis caused by greed itself, with senators and representatives choosing lobbyists over human lives, when presidents vow to turn toward the commoner over corporate interest and fail (but who would have guessed), I can only see my country in decline, and everyone underneath chase the trend.

It makes it hard to stay content. And I say content rather than happy, because when people say "find happiness" they do not quite mean that, as happiness is only something that can be ensued or resulted in when we find things in our lives that allow it. So these people mean "find something that makes you happy", and as humans can be defined as goal-oriented creatures, we can deduce that they mean, "find a future goal that will make you happy, and pursue it". Which is easier said than done, when I am so conflicted. I'm not unique in desiring money and wealth and a car that isn't a Toyota for once. And some Toyotas are quite nice these days. But I want to break the cycle of debt my mother and father have been in, and my father is in still, to have a house that doesn't have pieces falling apart, to order something without worrying about its price, but only the pleasure it will grant...but these feelings, like the attainment of all material possessions, I believe, are fleeting at best. Of course, we feel great after buying a car or some snazzy new clothes, but we quickly become accustomed to a this new, more exorbitant lifestyle, and anything less would be an absolute downgrade, in a world where our self-worth is determined by our salaries and sailboats, the area of our apartments and the number of channels on our televisions, would be an absolute hammer to the mirror. So, when push comes to shove, and income is lost, we would rely on debt to keep this self-worth, this lifestyle, these pleasures that don't really please but only maintain, creating that image of an enamored housewife in Orange County sneaking out her i-banker husband's AmEx card, giddy and gregarious, as she pulls in her Lexus to Neiman Marcus.

I know, everything I've said in this post has been said before, but it feels so much better relatively to say it myself, in my own way. I was so close to tears but ten minutes ago, I felt so lost and abandoned and abused, the minor debt of a medical bill only a sample of what's to come with student loans for an education I don't even know what I'll do with, but am confident that I need. It seems so...self-harming to have something of an existential/educational/career crisis AFTER getting accepted to your college, but I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I just wish I knew people, people I could converse with, that know this feeling of uncertainty. And I'm pretty much "locked in", I'm pretty much fated to go. I have to, everyone tells me, I have to. And deep down, I know it offers a better chance at life than this one right now. Something new, that novel stimulation that I've been craving since after high school, where in comparison to my boxed-in peers, I have so much, where one is just so jealous of what I have, things I'm trying to get away from. But right now, I could just never have enough money, even though I have so much more than those boxed-in peers, what I'll have to pay for just exceeds their understanding. Tuition, rent, medical bills...well some of it crosses over, but my requirements seem to be in another ball park. I don't know, I can't compare myself to them, for better or for worse. They're just other people. I'm just another person.

An I email I was forced to write

Ryan,
You are so incredibly important to me - you've helped shape my worldview and show me a love for literature and how to have a good time. You are the salt, sugar, and fat in my convenient, hyperpalatable American diet. For real! You are great!
But I am not, at least not yet. Though you are helping me achieve that, and that means the world to me, I still have a long way to go. And that being said, I never meant to offend you, or to toss crude, insensitive images in your direction. For everything you mean to me, Ryan, I can't imagine intentionally trying to hurt you, it's just not logically sound, it's not something I would knowingly do, not that it's not my fault, but something that lies in my lack of judgment -- when I thought out loud and considered the foul thoughts of foolish people (why would I do this) which I recited without censor, when I roleplayed various ideas percolating in my steam pot head, marinating my mind I guess I become immune to the consideration of what is contextually sound and what is not, which you may have noticed before. I don't want to create that image of myself, of someone who uses words that break down barriers around what one wants to deveop and protect.

I wish I could easily describe the sensations I felt when I realized that I hurt you. Plainly, my stomach began to intensely wring itself out and I noticed that the air was much hotter, and I felt the urge to sweat. I fumbled around in my car's trunk looking for my emergency cigarettes (there were 2, and I left them there originally to take to offer to my coworker, who invited me to a party at his house that evening) but smoked one. There was one left, shuffling around in the light cardboard of the package. I started the car and drove north, up to La Madera and Grenwiche. One of my eyes was irritated but I ignored it. NPR wasn't cutting it for me so I switched to the rock station and listened to it like background music in a movie, driving while my mind felt so rigid, so intensely focused on the cratered road and the turbulence around the car's frame as it scuttled and bumped until I decided to merge over left, where the road was much smoother. But in my head I felt aloof and lowly, something only time would change. I blew off that girl that I told you I would see again. I could not converse. I took La Madera eastbound, and turned right on Barnei boulevard. I wanted to walk and see things from close up, so I parked on a busy little shopping street, by a parking meter. The sign said time was up, so I didn't have to scurry around in my pockets or the car's center console for dimes. I got out and looked around. Something caught my eye and I walked toward it, "Out of the Closet" thrift store. I hadn't been to one before and I decided now would be a fine time. But I was disappointed to see the store cowering behind a heavy metal grating while I checked the hours. It closed today at 7. It was 8. I saw a male mannequin dressed like a pimped-out peacock and smiled. I kept walking a bit and a Mercedes pulled up to me, and a black man asked me which way to La Madera. I told him something that turned out to be wrong ten minutes later, but didn't let it get to me.

I wanted to ask someone which way to Valmont, back to familiarity and the freeway. I'm sure I could find it on my own but asked anyway. A strange, gregariously content Asian man smiled at me on the way to the liquor store as I bought myself a refreshing drink. I smiled back, thinking about how nice it is when strangers can approach each other with ease, just happy to be fellow men together, and remembered that "strangers are just friends you haven't met yet". He followed me into the liquor store and came out with me, and smiled again. Now was the time. "Do you know which way Valmont is?" He told me some directions that I didn't understand, even his exaggerated arm movements weren't enough to signal which way to go, but I pretended to follow along. He seemed well-kept, while an earring glowed and I noticed some strange scars connecting around his neck, as if he underwent an operation that would replace his skinmask face with someone else's. He seemed cool enough though. His directions included making a U-turn to go around some river that tears the street in half. I thought of a reservoir but no, it was some river that he was on his way to. He said something that included the phrase "horny" and asked me if "that was your car" twice. I thought about it for a second of a second and kindly refused the offer, and told him to have a nice night, and he was kind about it, too. I began to drive back to where I was heading and felt better. But I won't feel completely better until you read this email and call me some time.

With great honor,
Marcus Nagelberg

messing with destiny?

More conflict and confusion regarding the big move. I'm afraid of debt. Shouldn't I be? How much can my family contribute? Let's see. There's Tara&Randy, Grandpa, Kayla&Michael, Rona&Bob...if I can get a 10K loan from each of them, I'd be much better off. Tuition is due each quarter. It's like $5K a quarter. I knew it was expensive but my financial aid awards might not even come in until the beginning of the year because I applied later than usual. I'm going out of my fucking mind. I have no other choice. I have to leave. Or go broke. I need this though. So much. If the family could just loan it to me...

misery avoids company

god I feel like shit. there is one large task left at work and I can just stare at it in misery and dismay. i'm here, trying to do it but all i can drag myself to do is just nohthing, only sit here, feel bad, feel gross, want to eat more but am full, disgusted, not anticipating judgement uncertain about tonights events. want to go but don't feel on top of myself, am not communicating well with others, feel disengaged and in a fog, even though i turned it down the other night. feel odd. feel feel feel. i want feelins to be disengaged from thoughts. and bodily musings. feel so alien. just here. sorr this is not written well but had to be writtne incognito.

time moves so quickly!

and I am still unsure of my future living situation! sigh! fuck! but I was confident with a new skill today, I called people up to do some plumming work for quotes and successfully found my old man the best deal ever. I was afraid of making these calls but I got good results within an hour. i am proud of myself for this.

money provides comfort, power, control

So I should be making more of it. I'm still uninsured and need to see an allergy specialist, I might have a dairy allergy, milk (lactose) might be creating these balls of mucous that appear in my throat. I know, gross huh? it really sucks though but since my asthma is under control I can only classify anything else as a minor annoyance. I could buy some soy milk like a hippie. I need to work more hours to make more money. School is almost out for now. I need to know how much university will cost me, it bothers me so much because my father is still unsure of his own financial situation, and he sort of comes first. If I don't get into an apartment I don't know where I will live. Or how I will afford it. But an education takes priority, right?

I must be a sucker for a computer chair

It's almost as if my natural inclination is to sit here. I have a lot of mental energy but nothing to really do with it, and I lack the motivation to write, or to take up a list of goals. I could eat forever, pet a cat forever, sit here, forever. I'm gonna try to get that bike fixed today.

Fuck, today is the 24th. Tomorrow is the 25th. Tuesday is the 26th. Wednesday is the 27th. Thursday is the 28th. Friday is the 29th. Saturday is the 30th. Sunday is the 31st. Monday is June 1st. That's when that thing is due. I can't even start it until I'm accepted though.

leak

I have a post-nasal drip. that means I have mucous leaking from my sinuses, down my throat, into my stomach. The stomach does not like these fluids and churns in response to it. I'm seeing a free doctor tomorrow though. I hate this feeling. i don't even want to type. my EAR is congested, for chrissakes!

why

why do I feel the need to go on these fleeting, self-fulfilling, pleasure sprees? like depressant drugs will motivate me to get things done? well, I did do some cleaning yesterday, the boiler room is definitely a bit larger now, but it only creates more places to sweat, inducing desires to revolve my sleep schedule around the sun, for there's a disconnect between when the outdoor air starts to irradiate the skin and body with a boiling heat, and anything in the bright light's uncovered consistency with a hellish sweat, and when the house begins to feel its residual effects, inspiring me to seek a better design for roof, as my friend who'd climbed up last with me to help patch a leak says it could use something new to insulate it.

There was a car with odd stickers that stood out, one was an Eye of Horus, the other numbers fashioned into a row, reading "12.21.12"... conspiracy believers.

health

mornings haven't been too bad, nothing I can't solve with a little taste of albuterol. Still waiting to see if I'll be accepted by the system. I committed fraud and wanted to tell the world, because i felt so bad about it, but rethought that thought and will just say that here. I forged a 1040 so that I'll be....hopefully granted access into this program from the county because I can't afford traditional health insurance. Well, I guess I COULD pay for it, but I'm tired of being denied and screwed over by what i KNOW i NEED. i know, it's messed up and I can't justify it. eventually I will get some sort of standard health insurance/health care plan but there are too many fucking choices, and I've been screwed over by these companies so many times in the past, and I know that with my godawful luck the expensive drugs I need will not be covered, and that i'll be in debt once again, just doing things out of good inclination, going badly once agani.

i'm poor, and can't ask my father for anything. My father's income is artificially inflated. He doesn't really make that much. He withdraws his pension payments early so that he can pay his mortgage bill at the end of the month, and then pays huge taxes on those pension payments. it's a terrible system and screws the poor without thought of the outcome. I don't see how he could have been surprised paying taxes, high taxes on that action. I don't know. But I do know that this sounds whiny, but it's true, this is the one department in my country and in my life where it just doesn't work, and I just have to do something different. please don't judge me for this, i couldn't tell anyone the whole story of how I feel about it if I wanted to.

but I do know that people might think I am a scumbag for attempting to cheat a system. Haflway through the ordeal I realized that it would be a bad idea, but what I heard from a health practitioner there made it all too real for me and I couldn't resist. I thought of backing out halfway, I thought of claiming, I'm sorry, these forms are illegitimate, take me out of the system, forgive me, there is a problem with the documents.

But I couldn't. It would have made a scene and I was sure it would have made bigger problems. I'm just going to ride on my past gregariousness, i will be bound by the choices that I made under pressure. I know that what I did will be looked down upon, and the people that would look down on me would not consider how i felt myself upon doing it. but I haven't even GOT anything out of it yet. They DENIED me the medication that I plainly needed until my next appointment, a good two weeks from when I first went it. it's not the kind of medical care that will save someone's life. The doctor, for whom English was plainly a second language gave me contradictory advice from a clinician I had seen prior. it's very disheartening, but at least, with care, i can force myself through all the bad i feel in my body. all the congestion, constriction, coughing, running, wheezing just thrusts itself into a malaise that i'm used to. it's nothing new to have to fight to breath or use an inhaler more than I should. it's known, and i'm only afraid of the unknown.

identity

i'm spending tonight alone, but will lie about it tomorrow. I'm going to say I was at the house of my mentor and his partner, drinking, like I did a while ago and it was fantastic. it's won't be a huge lie, i bumped into him today. but it's part of the guise i need to make, to split away from C. i need to create this reality, make it real, so he'll realize that there are other things on my mind. but I won't have to lie about what I'm doing tomorrow.
I am becoming anonymous, a misanthrope, a spectre, a silky, transparent wizard with glassy eyes and crystalline skin. Wispy hair, wrinkled brow, missing teeth and rumpled lips. He entered the door cautiously and flipped the light switch, looked around.

change

C tries hard, but I couldn't stand him last night. and a lot of the things that piss me off so much, I can't even articulate. it's quite sad, really. I'm going to try, though. he tries to formulate opinionated judgments of things that I do in a way that translates as a queer type of "advice" or how tries to find a remedy for problems he can't solve, only those i chose to let him be aware of. I can't articulate this well. It sounds so trivial and menial. but at the end of the day he's just not fun to be around, not that i'm a dizzying socialite myself but i never really chose to have him as a friend, he just sorta stuck in there. I know how O feels too. He let C off easy. But O's been busier, he was in a city a few hours south of here with his significant other (who's bearing his child) and I respect that. i'm still debating how I can tell C that im trying to demote him. he says, "I'd rather hear this shit straight up...etc" but I know it's just a guise, that he can't really take it, that his "best friend" doesn't reciprocate even though it's damn obvious I don't particularly enjoy his company, at least lately. but I'm not going to totally alienate him either, and I can't, but at least that class is ending soon. oh GOD.
when each day ends a new day begins. the number next to the month changes, whether you like it or not. i'll sleep, sleep, and get as much as I can for I need but its just closer to that deadline...

mmmph

Deadlines woosh like in that book...Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Well, I can see them before they hit usually. But there are some deadlines that if breached, will seriously affect the course of my life.
What happens if I don't go? I will still be living here. So...won't I still be seeing the same people/lack of other people? That's exactly right. But just in case I don't go, should I have a back up plan? I could live with my grandfather and his caregiver. That would probably suck though. Where else could I live? Tara and Randy? The Roceretas? I would be stuck with the car living here. Ugh. I believe that the less one prepares himself in secondary school, the fewer options he or she will have once they are out. I did not think or care, and am stuck with few. I know I will incur debt. I know there are those that can help me, fortunately. I must go.

great

I feel so great, so empowered. That feeling when I left the movie. I want to always feel that way. This way. I think it kicked in after I got her number though. No caffeine, no drugs, no nothing - it must be noted. My car didn't feel like a junker when my friend and I went the way she left to see if she wanted a ride (she had a bike that could be stashed). I loved C then. There was no misery or foul mood or corruption or anguish or doubt, I just simply "could" and the possibilities are endless. Captain Kirk inspired me - I know he's a fictional character but he's so well-written that he reminds me of myself as I am right now, on top, even though I'm not a thrill-seeker and my friend had to nag and convince me to see him, even when I was reluctant, it paid off. Not to say that every time will be like that. I want to conjure moods and feelings though. My bad chemicals weren't so bad. This feeling is great but I haven't had it in a while. If I was this now in a club, I'd be VIP. If I was this now on a starship, I'd be captain. I would have my way and not be judged, just feared. Just kidding, no one fears me. But if I was this now I would not sleep. C felt great and I did too. No we did not have gay kiss kiss during show. In fact he scooted over a seat which was good, I did not want to hear his wheezing. During the first half he was texting a bit and it annoyed me. Why do people pay $10 for a ticket to stare at the small screen? It is so pixelated and intrusive. We go to movies to escape reality. But afterwards I found out that it was somewhat important, and his verbally abusive bipolar stubborn adoptive father was trying to frame him for something he did not do, and couldn't have done because he was out with me. Later on his father found out that it was not true and apologized. C wants my job when I leave. Yes, WHEN I leave. No, this is not influenced by my current mood, it just came up today. Too much is expected of me to falter.

coming back, why is my hypomania situational? I was diagnosed cyclothymic a few years ago. It was a hesitant, forced diagnosis by a psychotherapist who didn't respect labels. He doesn't want to box people in. He says Marcus is just Marcus. And Marcus feels differently sometimes. But I thought I was more scientific. A label denotes a problem, a physical problem, ones with chemicals and chemical receptors. But from what we understand of the human brain, it has the ability to rewire itself, to adapt and to change, and even mere thoughts can invoke this. Thoughts generally have less side effects than medications, too, wouldn't you know?

leaving

Without revealing too much, I will most likely leave the city and state for a while later this year, for something that will most likely better me as a person, though it will most likely be costly, i think it will most likely pay off in the end.

Worried about my old man. He is trying to work his crappy job part-time so that he can attend classes for a graduate degree in the fall. He is determined but it will just leave him poorer. Going to classes will make him happier though, so that's psychic income gained. I worry about what might happen to the Kingdom if I am gone. I would talk to him at least once a week while I'm gone to listen to his stories and they will probably be melancholy at best until he finishes or finds a better job.

There are so many things, it feels like, that stupefy him about the inner workings of the Kingdom that I worry about how he will/would/should manage without me. But he is older and wiser right? Yes, but this is the man that taught me to read, much earlier than the other students, but after that, left me to read about everything he didn't know about and couldn't teach me. At the end of the day, if I didn't know, then he didn't know. Unless it was about a very specific art that had no merit in the hustle and bustle of everyday life in suburban society, except for the specific place where this specific art was created or performed.

Before, I was bitter, and I thought cruel things of him. "How could he be so stupid?! He knows nothing! I can't learn anything from him, and the more time I spend with him, the more I will become like him - and deteriorate until I am but a couch potato before dusk, and a lonely drunk reader at night."

But now I accept him. He will live (part of) his life through me, and that is why I must go away for a while and trust him of his own accord. Besides, I need to learn about what Marcus wants. to do that I must experience new things, and that isn't happening at the rate I want over here, even when I am coerced to try new things by O or C or whoever.

frustration

am I frustrated because I doubt myself? or do I doubt myself because I am frustrated? I told my mentor when I saw him on a rare, random occasion: "I write...just journals and stuff mostly, but I want to write some fiction." He says okay good. I say "But creating characters and whatnot, seems so difficult. I can't write about anyone besides myself. I don't understand other people's inclinations, motivations, or what makes THEM THEM. I only know mine...to some extent." He says...then write about yourself.

i probably don't even need any new experiences to find material, i have enough in my life, strangely enough. but I feel like I perceive things so differently, and not different enough to be entertaining or enthralling to any other reader, just in a weird "you're overthinking" kind of way. some of it is so ashamedly stupid i can't even get it written down here. like...I had to leave a friend's house to get home at a certain time. C wanted a ride, I said sure fine whatever (like I have a choice...but don't blast me for being a dick, i just hate driving my car even though everyone else would die for one...its a long weird issue i have trouble explaining even to myself) and he brought it up once or twice, "Marcus, shouldn't you be leaving soon? it's 5:45!" i was annoyed, concentrating on a board game with someone else I joked, put him on blast, said sarcastically, "Thanks mom" and everyone laughed at his expense. Oh C...so serious C. Tries to see everything in black and white.

Well anyway I ended up leaving a bit later than I wanted to, was pressed for time, and ended up dropping him off at the bus stop. He assured me it was "fine" but I knew he was pissed off a bit because he wanted to go home because he was tired or hungry or some menial issue of the flesh. But I think he might have been a bit proud of me for not being coerced by his will. I did him a favor that very morning that might have saved him his job anyway.

doubt

I don't feel like I'm good enough to finish school. I've barely done anything and I feel like I've been cracking away at it for ages, but there's so much more. i need to try going away to school though. just try. as long as i pass my classes here i'll be in a good spot i think. I hope. Frustrated with C like he can't help himself. Don't want to see him so fucking much, he's pissing me off. just next time, say no. i need a good excuse though. but i don't have to do anything I don't want to do, right? and O will be there to egg me on when i don't want to pick C's ass up. and stop smoking again! you lost your rhythm! what happened? another problem is that I'm pretty much alone without these people. i wonder how i'm better off. i had a good time with C the other day probably because i was able to say no. why couldn't i say no today? perhaps because i'd want him to do the same. god damn car.

scrub

the cool thing about cleaning is that once you get started its hard to stop.

want

Today was April 30th. I came to a scary conclusion today through a day of turmoil and confusion - I don't know what I want. For some reason I feel the need to distance myself from the few friends I actually have. C is boring me, O seems to be losing himself in his own vices, and R is just there. Everyone says I'm expecting too much when we hang out, but I've put so much time into it. I did some really decent writing while sitting on a rock coming up on mushrooms, but it was fleeting, and the day was downhill from that point. I need to cherish my father, because he's all I really fucking have, or so it feels like. He sacrifices so much, and he actually has a plan. One big thing he has that I don't is a goal and a plan for once. He has a plan to self-actualize.

I got so "stuck" today with C. I felt like he was being belligerent, and he accused me of being paranoid, and I stopped listening to him and played with sand and looked at plants in a newfound glory but it was also fleeting because after we got off those rocks and he took off his shirt i knew I was having a bad trip, because I was stuck with HIM. There was nothing I could do, no way to express myself without hurting his feelings and making him wonder why, why am I being left behind. For someone accusing me of having no balls because sports don't interest me, he really has attachment issues. But he was neglected and abused as a child, and I should feel bad for him and help him. Sigh.

Another thing I learned today is that I really don't know anything. Sometimes things work and other things don't. I know that sounds vague but when things work out, I don't even know if it was my efforts that made it be or my lack of efforts. Like there is no way for me to choose an inclination other than what feels natural. But of course, the natural one is to push myself away from problems and uncomfortable scenarios. But the discomfort is good, right? It builds character, it makes you grow! Right? But at a certain future time I'll have to do what feels right to find my way and realize that whenever anything I chose to do on my own accord didn't feel right I was only doing it for the sake of self-improvement and broadening my horizons. Why is life so complicated for me? All I'm supposed to do is go to school, work a job, hang out with friends to shoot the shit and not go crazy, and maybe invest in a hobby, and go to sleep and wake up and repeat the cycle. There is so much emotional bullshit. There are so many questions without answers. Interrogative inclinations and wondering "why?"

also, I saw a doctor today. don't get me started on the health care system. please. i need to fight for the proletariat in that one. maybe public policy?

Vibration

The vibration in my pocket typically disrupts any of this, any of what I have right now. The Prosthete is one who actively engages in lies and makes personas for himself. He is a masked marauder. He is a jovial jester. He is a dark, sinister hand. He is a sticky keyboard on the only vacant lab computer. He is the mouse without a ball. He is the mastermind behind it all. He is the one who tugs your strings. He is the one who can make your heart sing. He is the one to cut you with a knife. He is the one who actively fills you with fright.
He will leave work early. We will leave work early. We will leave at 3, but it's 2:58 and on his desk lies his feet. When are you off work? All of the cards in this deck are broke. Ripped up and shredded, fifty fifty two. Toss 'em 'round, pick them up, flip them down, look at the back, is it new? Or is it the same queen, the same jack,

tracking the next big one

http://www.idemc.org/
choose pandemic monitoring
this could be bad

chest

Chest pain
Waking up with a dry cough
Dust bunnies and pet dander may play a role
Did some vacuuming but still did not sleep well. Rest of quest involves washing mattress pad, blankets, comforter...a lot of water will be used. The vacuum is fucked up too. The hose that is separate from the vacuum itself is kind of broken, though it sucks up on its own. so it's a lot cleaner from the hour of work i put into it. i'm happy about that. still a lot of dust bunnies though in other parts of the house. my dad has a cough but he's a smoker so yeah
he wants me to find myself a new insurance plan. i backed out of the old one because it was gay and charged me 25% more because i was taking effexor.
in my insurance plan i want good rX coverage, high deductible so i can get a HSA and just to be able to see a doctor for much cheaper than it should be

Break.

C and I stole 3 ton jack and heavy toolbox from his father to help open up the wheels of my car and look at the brakes. First you unscrew the lug nuts, all five of them to get the tire off. Inside, is the brake, calipers, support plates, pads, and rotor. But a new problem opened up, because inside the front left brake the pads are in pristine condition. We didn't have time to open up the other side and check it out. Also, the entire caliper is for another model of car, two types of brake pads that we got did not fit, it's a very scary thing. Also, the car needs an alignment. Of all the fucking cars he's worked on, C said, THIS one has to have the wrong calipers on it. Naturally it means I got gipped when we got the car like two years ago. Very sad, means I have to put a lot more money and work into it. as of now I despise driving it, makes sounds I don't want to hear, and the brake pedal is loose, must press hard. I hate being poor.

uncomfort

the hungers back. so heavy and dull and dumb i feel today

Begin

Am reading "The Right to Write" by Julia Cameron. Doing an exercise

Physically, a little upbeat, a little less sick, perhaps from being outside the house which might be making me ill. There could be mold problems or things in the ventilation that make me cough and spit up sputum and sneeze and accent my asthma in negative ways. I am not writing long-hand. Sitting upright rather content actually talked to a friend on the phone about a possible sex interest. This is no longer physical and must be edited. But we do not edit on this blog. No sir. Currently, for some reason, do not have the compulsive urge to eat, maybe because I am sitting upright and writing? Feels okay.
Emotionally, I've been satiated. Need a love interest, a new outlet, a new friend. I take society one day at a time and am slightly comfortable with that, gradually more, hopefully faster. Skipped a class because I forgot about an assignment, how is this emotional again? The hustle and bustle of everyday life. Not a sentence. If I wanted to write about a sick frog-charmer, I'd be too caught up in the details. Maybe that's what I have to work on, or just work on. I meant it that way. This is not meant to be read and cherished by others thought I want to find my own voice that other people would enjoy listening to and perhaps even speak back to me with.
Psychologically, I'm okay, I was able to push back meeting my friend (even though he is helping me with my car) to a little later so that I would be able to do this little exercise. But it feels so bland! I want that passion back, I went to the beach, I got high, I hung out, I did some work, I'm crafting, not perfecting a craft but developing it hopefully, I am rambling in tangents unmanagable, but intend to eventually manage.
My age bothered me after my last birthday but I'm coming to terms with it, this is really something right here, Julia Cameron is a genius. Here's a quote (though I will try to refrain from them because they take up space in material that is not my own),
"Be petty, critical, whining, scared. Be excited, adventurous, worried, happy. Be whatever and however you are at this moment. Get current. Feel the current of your own thoughts and emotions."
I am typing rather fast but one thing came up to me earlier today, why is NEUTRALITY seen as a NEGATIVE? Why isn't NEUTRAL neutral? These days, everything breezes by so quickly - everyone who matters is connected in one form or another and it feels like real passions, real meanings to things, real truths are on the same level of whims these days. Anyone can pick up a hobby if they have a few hours and a bit of capital, and they can drop it like a pen the next day. It feels like, "if you do not yourself consume, you will be yourself consumed". That's all me right there. Copywritten, bitches. The current is that I merely feel here, and since I do not feel bad, I feel good. I guess that's just neutral. And thank goodness I don't feel sick at the moment, like I have for the past two weeks. I swear, once I go back inside the house I'll start coughing shit up again. This morning I thought about taking a test - rest in a hotel for 3-4 nights and see if I stop feeling sick. I grabbed this coupon that lets men come to your house to clean out your "vents" in your house. I think my house has vents, even though it doesn't have air conditioning. I guess I will have to call them and find out? That doesn't really scare me right now, however. Yesterday I emailed Ryan. Today I emailed someone in the English department that old prose I wrote a while ago which is still decent even though a bit rambling it's true to heart. Right now, while I write now, I ramble still intangibly except to me, incorporeal (lacking material form or substance) except to thee.

time

should could would volunteer over the summer. if not travel. but i want to make money...or do i? what about psychic income? what about getting more writing material? that might be a better use of my time.
class struggles throughout history, marx, engels, nietsche try to depict them
I could work with the elderly and steal their drugs and listen to their stories. Maybe i could teach english in some foreign country. Do I want to do that? Possibly. Need a job. Summer classes would get in the way of that. Helping old jewish people. helping old mexican people. old black people. old german people. Something to get me out of the house.

today

dim hot and hellish
constantly have to fight off the urges of getting fingernails up in my hairline, fishing for faults and outliers, little smidgens of whatnot hidden up in there must be smitten to ritualistic search and removal. it's sickening and gross and i don't want to have to do it anymore. I must also force myself to shower more often, especially in this weather. I hate being fat.
Constant urge to eat nuts and rabbit food as well when i'm not even hungry. Pisses me off, had a dream with a cool story idea in it but forgot it

stomach

Smoked a bowl last night and read the whole time. Memory got a little wonky and had the urge to sleep on the couch. Today the weather is unbearable and it's only mid April. It's reminding me why I have to get out of here, why I have to leave. The weather reminds me why I have to leave.
My stomach is full from snacking but I am not satiated. I could eat little empty carb salty snack sweet chocolate knick knocks all day long but my stomach swells up. I should keep eating and then puke afterwards. No, I shouldn't, that would be unhealthy.

gave in

Last night driving home from book store bought two one about writing the other called What Should I Do With My Life? by Po Bronson. It's very good. Was hungry driving home at 9 o clock thought about going home and making a tuna sandwich. Decided that since there was no bread and no cheese I would get a cheeseburger again. Got a whopper and small drink. $5 i'll never see again. Whopper was good. Went home and read the book until it was time for bed.

sushi

the sushi the other day was such a contrast from the mushy tilapia I fucked up tonight
will convert There Will Be Blood to mp4, the iPod's favorite video format apparently

Gregory

Gregory Aires opened the front door to his house, stepped out of it, and closed and locked the door behind him. He took a breath and began walking to his bus stop. Grey was the road and sidewalk constructed from concrete. Each house on the block had its own color scheme and set of trees and its own lawn depicting the amount of effort the owner put into its growth. Gregory Aires didn't think about how this particular day at the office would turn out, it was only Tuesday. No holiday, no early closing, no particular events in mind; he was just going to work. Of course, he was not free from his own thoughts.

April 14th taxes must do tonight do i have a program yes that's paid and that letter from AT&T bill has to be corrected should call Margie owe her a call sweet woman smile her hospitality shit Ryan was annoyed other day but Rosie says its fine the Charter assignment is due today maybe shopping after or to take the car in no time for that maybe I'll text Ryan or just wait and talk to him when I'm there did I take the Zyrtec yeah how much longer what am I gonna do those benefits don't kick in until fuck GP is general practitioner is there a meeting yes I got the cookies and W2s ready should make time at lunch and I fed Proust he'll be good as usual what about the farting yeah at the store I'll get that special stuff

He pulled an apple from his coat pocket and took a bite or two

A little more bitter than the Granny Smith I'm used to...

outage

that acidic stomach thing lead to a sore throat which lead to a cough which I still have. hopefully normal, have not been seen by medical personnel. Fortunately, soon - if everything goes right I'll have health insurance for a while, at least until classes are over...it'd be great if I got the whole year though, I can't wait!

Car has "check engine" light on.
Thought: Spell check is destructive.

Chose not to smoke nor drink with friends in late night meeting last night. It was a good time, too.
Went to school, slept through one class. The rest was decent. Got a C (77) on a big test from a day prior.
Cleared time to check brakes and see C to do school work, but not doing it now.

Thought: Just write as I normally do, or in this fashion for one character's journal entry. Then make everyone else's journals (!!) or thoughts sound differently. It would be best not to exaggerate though.

what do you do when

you want to study a craft but have no where to begin?

The unluckiest man

[I]t would be hard to beat the hard-luck of a Japanese man named Tsutomu Yamaguchi.On August 6th, 1945, he was in Hiroshima on a business trip when the first A-bomb dropped on Japan exploded. He suffered some burns, but was considered well enough that he could leave Hiroshima the next day and go home. To Nagasaki.

oh my

sick

dreamed that I missed the deadline for that philosophy essay and hanging out with C and O was the culprit because i didn't make enough time for myself and my educational endeavors. which is slightly true.
Jasper is a little sleep spirit that wants to keep me in bed.
did not sleep, strong acidic sensation in stomach limits me and it sucks
need ginger ale
need relief

this morning

My poor cat's got something wrong with her eye,
she's squinting a lot cause there might be something wrong with her eye.
And there was cat urine on my comforter, after all the blood tests and
diagnostics, it turns out the issues were ultimately behavioral
The smell is foul and offensive to the nostrils,
pungent and crude, i put aside and away the toxified blanket
Discovered some mold under the kitchen sink that might be making me sick
my stomach's churning and all soured up
ate some healthy foods hoping it'd improve my attitude
but my morale is muy mal and thoughts in my head have driven me up a wall
out of my house, out of my house, i'm at the library but my study time is up

gross

Feel gross sensations in my stomach, bringing me down. Perhaps indigestion? Perhaps involving that energy drink I had last night? Maybe it was the Reese's. I feel ill and have not done much today besides recycling cans. Made about $32 USD in an hour, not sure what to do with it.
Wanted to put it in a savings account at the bank but felt too gross and grimy to go in public. Need to shower - I've come into contact with some bad mold under the kitchen sink. Not to mention all the outdoor fermented beer/backwash mixture lurking in the last stretch of the crushed cans that happened to drip on me as I organized all the cans into garbage bags to transport.
I had no idea how bad it was, it's absolutely filthy and damaged and the wood is wet and falling apart in some places.
Not sure what to tell mom, or where to begin, as I know nothing about the dynamics of the kitchen's schematics. It would also cost a bit to fix as well, not what I'd ask her to pay today anyway.

caffeinated fingertips

“A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.”

good evening. it's quite late on this spring break evening. I have decided to administer a 16oz can of sugar-free Rockstar tonight. I'm not usually big on energy drinks but I'm trying to do something a little different tonight. On a normal night, I would be about to pass out from pot I ended up smoking today with a friend or two. It feels late and I am moderately confused. I will come back to you later.

down and introspective

is the mood of the day
can't get my thoughts out 'bout cali-for-nigh-ay
clodded conglomerates thinking clouds dead
links betwixt them all turned red
neuron shot to neuron fire
neuro transmitter neuro action is dire

philosophy and nothing

So anxious. I'm afraid to pick up the phone, so I feel I must publish my feelings here. I hope that doesn't bother anyone.
I'm kind of interested in Ayn Rand's "The Ethics of Emergencies", it's quite self-empowering. It's a short part of a book that describes why ethical egoism is bad compared to altruism. I found it interesting because it goes against the grain. She articulates well that people feel compelled to act in an altruistic manner, but are unaware of the moral framework behind this behavior.
Isn't caffeine known to make anxious people more anxious? Oh well. It does other things that are important.
I'm afraid to deal with customer service phone calls, and have and will keep procrastinating before I'm ready to deal with it. I don't think I'll ever be ready. This is sad. I'm gonna call my phone company later today.

morning

woke up on time, didn't snooze
went to see grandma
called aunt, had wonderful conversation
trying to reunite self with family for support
must go to high school tomorrow
must call SCM tomorrow about grades
i have to drop the fails
i can't have those on my university transcripts
i can't i fucking can't

"Why not people?"

An unusual introspective wave feel over Raf and he held out his hand in front of him. He watched his fingers unfold and collapse, seeing it like a flower aging in time-lapse and back again. He saw the junction separating finger and hand - the leafy florets around a great furrowed node - and took into account where the edges of palm ended, and where finger and finger would sprout.

Fingers tensed and relaxed. At the beginning of each movement, aware of each individual finger, they felt as if he could control them independently, but noticed that their movements were ultimately connected. The palm, the heart of the bud stood out on its own somewhat, but the fingers accentuated its presence like a great sunflower's goldenrod mane. Thoughts of picking them off individually - like a young girl's lovebird mind playing with a daisy - arrived but realization of the calloused, wrinkled digits at the ends of his branches dared not be plucked. The junctions between florets and head came clear, as if they could be removed if pulled in exactly the right trajectory.

once again screwed up

preferred to spend my time in bed rather than getting up on time
I don't know how to control it
I'm going to try harder next time
I feel disgusting
didn't shower

my friends

I don't think i understand my own feelings. I have a close friend that is clingy. He thinks of me as his best friend and my other close friends as his friends, and everyone else as an acquaintance. I've been lonely for a long time though, but he has been getting on my nerves and an outside friend of mine mentioned that this guy could have been trying to "buy friends". I'm just going to either make myself gradually, a little more unavailable (even though it's hard to lie about such a matter or make it seem honest) or just tell him honestly that I feel like I'm married to the guy.

Problem

I think I have a problem. I will do anything to stay in bed. I called in and said I'd be coming in a little later to do errands. I laid in longer. It felt so good and I couldn't help myself. Every 10 minutes I'd check the time and stay cozy for a little longer. It's been a real problem for me. And, the first thing that people would think is, oh, just go to bed earlier. I get 8 hours of sleep either way! But I noticed that an hour later...I was feeling like I didn't want to lie there anymore. And I only stayed because I knew I'd get up at 9:40. Between 9:20 and 9:40 I felt restless. Maybe, for my age I just have to go to bed a little earlier after all?

It's just that...there's never enough hours in the day. Maybe I'm just not making the most out of them. I don't want to end up 30 and alone. Or 40 and broke. Or 50 and suicidal. I'll try going to bed earlier. Maybe I just need 9 hours of sleep.

Let me tell you about the stories that hang over my head

There were two men who never met or ever will meet, but they grew up during the great depression on their families' meager farmlands. One left at 18 with nothing but his clothes and his last couple of dollars and set out to never be poor again. The other went to the Colorado School of Mines and had the same mindset, just not as public about it. After some time, with much labor and effort, they sat upon their wealth, lived in nice homes, and shared with the families they brought forth. Now they are sick and dying.
They both had a son, each of them, and other children too but all that matters is the fact that both men had a son. One of these sons would become my father. The other, my good friend's adoptive father. These two sons, of the now elderly men lived and currently live more modest lives, more stressed and difficult lives, with less effort on their careers a possible factor, as well as many others.

Moral of the story: I'm willing to work, but need direction. I don't know if the great depression can mirror the economic crisis we're facing now, but it's a hell of a motivation to go to college. I just need a better plan...
I want to be like my grandfather, just without as much of an effort on starting a family. i come first.

the morning and the evening

This morning sucked. I could not drag myself out of bed on time. I missed the short period of time between when I could take the train to which i would have to drive. It took waay too long to get to the freeway due to construction jams and I wanted to tell myself something - well, I did, but I want my brain to remember not to let this happen to me again. Even though it's happened to me in the past. In the mornings, as I'm fading from sleep to wake my personality changes and I become much more impulsive...and my impulses are to stay in bed and to blow off society and the world for selfish gains. It's almost comparable to Jekyll and Hyde. It's something I'm working on, and the worst part is that it doesn't matter how much sleep I get at night, 6 hours, 8 hours, I still feel the same shitty way. It's motivating me to exercise or something maybe that will help. I was half an hour late to work but no one said anything.

then I worked for about 7 hours.

The drive home was so much worse though. It took a good hour. All there was to listen to on the radio was the same hip-hop pop songs, some of which I like, but it gets old quick when the playlist contains 7 songs and 3 different artists. I'm looking at you, Lil' Wayne. Why the hell does he get to be featured in seemingly every single pop song that's not Britney Spears' "Circus"? that might not even be the name of the song. i don't remember writing the previous sentence.

Tonight i cleared my schedule and blew off my friends so that I could take drugs. 15mg hydrocodone, .75mg alprazolam (i gotta be careful with the shit) and i'm drinking some coffee to stay awake. it's too strong but i'm dealing. im planning to smoke a bowl later :D.

You ever get that feeling where you just can't get the right words to conjure in your head, and it makes you uncomfortable when you have to settle for the incorrect words? And no, this happened at work today while I was sober. It pissed me off. Maybe because I was just so fed up with this long annoying project I was working on. That's as much as I'm gonna say about the job because I wish to remain anonymous.

I'm someone conflicted though...i want my writings, no matter how irrelevant they are to other people or how shitty and unorganized they are, to be available on google or something, but I can't make them appear. Perhaps the domain hasn't been around long enough? I know you can register for dmoz.org or something but I couldn't quite figure out how to do it.

I'm taking the drugs to feel something different tonight. there's been too much same.

don't want to lose this writing about Paris.

I did this a while ago and had it edited. I'm still very happy with it. I'm posting it here.





But one thing about Peter Szitas that was so prominent, yet ambiguous was his lack of any exotic cultural traits. A man of Hungarian descent, yet born and raised in the outskirts of Stockholm, raised on items of American culture and the popular media. He had no accent at all, he could have been living in the San Fernando Valley all his life and his Swedish tongue was so difficult to discern like a king snakes rattle from a corner of a crowded room, which would appear only at every other while and one wouldn’t raise any a thought or pondering moment about it.



He had been working as a bouncer he told me but I forget what motives brought him to Paris. Perhaps they were enrichment or just for leisure, reasons somewhat like mine, but we both understood that while we were unsure of an exact reason to be here – perhaps looking for something or just wanting to have some fun – we were here and we were gonna make the most of our time in this foreign city of exploration with childish wonder.



Who cared what the cynics said? When we took chances to say crude or offend there was no harm in good fun laughing off the absurdities of “Cabinetes Automatique” and weird lights in the redlightdistrict Pigalle and most days ended with us failing to find a GOOD AND CHEAP bar (had to be both we insisted on it) and disappointed but sometimes they ended with us buying our own liquor or beers from the local grocers and playing cards with our suitemates so it really didn’t matter what the cynics said in the end.



And every day ended in the end because we were a featherplume’s drift away from vagabonds and because when hostels run out you gotta find couches but we had the security of Lucky Youth on our side. Every day ended in a makeshift bed, whether a cot or converted couch in our fanciful hostel’d apartmentsuite and without regard to the hours of sleep we got we woke up with the vigor of Norse berserkers in the heat of battle but we lived for peace between common men, at least here we did. And no matter what, each day was a new beginning of a silly comic strip about toilet humor and mistranslations, there were no bounds or cares just disturbances of confusion sitting on a scale of droll and jest but I say we as a collective because I spent time with a number of other hostelmates but it wasn’t until my second week with suitemates that I discovered something and I think it was Peter who contributed and made me realize this the most: It didn’t matter nothing mattered just our joy and we were here to make the most of our time in this strange metropolis of images and sounds.



While I thought I had fun chasing museums by myself and taking pictures of art, I didn’t realize it until the second week it’s the journey that matters most. And while we weren’t really going anywhere, only residing back at the lodging to eat a meal or rest, we were going everywhere. And sometimes I got lost by myself going in circles failing to read the map correctly I always had a destination: le métro. It was so easy watching and squeezing into it but I chatted with patrons only sometimes and I felt more toward looking about sometimes in demure and primed myself to be affectedly modest as some folks stared at the American heart seared into my wrist. And it felt so nice to be the foreigner and not the local for once.



thank you

xanax and coffee

xanax and coffee
xanax and coffee
the gravity pulling's so strong, the hot air holding up the parachute frivolous
but the gravity feels essential, i have so much and paid so little nothing for it
no one knows who marcus nagelberg really is,
at least not yet,
and I hope they don't find out
sitting in a hole, waiting for a rope
but i've got to work my way building footwells up
to better stick my rubber souls
this is not a poem, just thinking calculated, simplified
I do not want to write poetry. I have done it before. But it seems so...socially unacceptable
the mentor would say, "why should you care?" i'd say image is everything.
private, public, it really does matter. he'd say, "do what makes you feel better, and ignore the naysayers." i'd say, "i'm already coping"

i'm over psychotherapy.
i loved the guy to death, and he worked with famous people, I felt so pampered in his cozy little lounge. But benefits died and money felt tight. I paid for a few when I could. When I had all that money. The money didn't matter when I had a lot of it but it means so much when there's less of it and many more options

other people's blogs, other people's lives

The "next blog ->" function in Blogger sucks. There's no way to filter your results, and 90% of the time I use it the shit is in a foreign language.

here's how I cope with community college lately. 0.25/0.3mg Xanax (it's hard to split the pill into quarters) and a large coffee. it works decently for better or for worse, but it's still the little things in life that bring me down.
the fact that I have to carry around a big book all day in one hand because my car is too long a walk away to make it worthwhile
the fact that it's so cold in my house in the morning that I wear my thicker jacket, and it gets intensely warm (or I perceive it that way) so i either carry it around too, or just wear it and get sweaty.

the xanax makes me a little bit confused sometimes too. like this morning I deduced that the coffee from the machine was cheaper than from the cafe, but there are no lids. I sneak beverages into the library all the time but i don't feel comfortable doing it when it doesn't have a lid. so I walked past the library toward the cafe to see if I can get a lid. halfway through I find myself stuck, put down the drink, look to the sky and think "what the fuck am I doing?" I go get the lid, return to the library, content but not quite content, but the deed is done. I think my priorities are screwed up.

content

still feel good about applying to that one school. I know I'll get in. I'm sure I'll visit and I'm sure I'll go. It's expensive though. I haven't qualified for a fee waiver from my community college because I made like 13 grand this year, even though I have next to nothing to show for it. god fucking damnit. So I'll pay the tuition, $250~ or so, and file my thing to get health insurance through my dad's employment office. sounds great right? it's way worth it. it just sucks that i'm not technically poor anymore. My dad's tax info is way different since he's been taking out his pensions to pay for his mortgage to make up for the difference in his wages (not salary) now.

he may suck with his money, and I may suck with my money now, but I am determined to never be poor again. so i guess i'll do my homework

useful webpage for one who'd like to create their own website

http://www.thesitewizard.com/gettingstarted/startwebsite.shtml
nifty little link

publicity

I was thinking about how to create buzz. This is more of an e-journal than anything. I probably wouldn't be interested in other people's lives. Unless they're interesting, well-written, and I can learn something from them. Hmm.

but i'd probably be better off making a new blog under the same name about a particular subject. i'm just not sure if I'm knowledgeable enough about one category of something in this world worth blogging about...to really blog about. but it would bring traffic here, and bring me second opinions, and i'd read their respective blogs.

one blogging tip is to ask questions. if I ask questions and they go unanswered, wouldn't that be embarassing? so I'm not sure if I should ask questions to attempt to generate publicity, or wait until I have a few viewers and then ask. fuck it.

so I will ask the world, what is worth blogging about? if someone is reading this from a few years forward, and sees that this post still has zero comments, just remember that i am an amateur. thank you.

what is worth blogging about?

more stuff

I should have trusted my dad. The $750 was only the estimated value of the laptop! We'll be getting $2100 or so total, which is excellent. I'm gonna buy a new laptop soon. Haven't heard from the police or detectives, stopped caring, might call, but doubt that they'll tell me very much. Applied to that certain school, wrote a smashing essay and put all my eggs in a basket that has 95% a chance of profit. it should be okay. i can try again next time and have been content with my situation. you only need a pulse to go to community college. it's not a dump by any means though, all my professors sans a computer science teacher have doctorates, not like they just pick people off the street to educate me. but it's not a real college away from home. dad says I should go away, because I've "lived too much of my life here". he's right.

Why is 0.25mg of alprazolam enough to make me a little bit confused? I can't trust myself with this...I need to focus, it's so early I was so tired, the cappuchino is too sweet, I'm in a photoshop class, helping a midle-aged woman who i'm slightly attracted too, i'm conflicted. Today is the last day to apply to my safe-school, I hope I can do this, I need to give them my high school transcripts, that's gonna be a bitch. I can't believe I waited so lnog. I can't jeopardize this, I'm overanalyzing my life right now, thsi would be my only way out of here, for me, my quest my journey, now there are other options but it's hard to get down to business, nto that i'm lazy, i forget to apprehend myself in my lethargy and sloth. Have not been able to assert myself enough to claim alone time for research and management of my university progress. I am dissapointed in myself but not all is lost. I can still apply to evergreen before the end of the night. Transcripts...this week, somehow. Fuck, high school shit. I don't want to be judged as I was then. but there is no other option, closure closed to be continued

Work distraction

My father is trying to sort things out with the homeowner's insurance people. He pissed me off earlier today because it sounds like he's taking their original, lowball offer like a piece of candy. I don't think he's assertive at all, bothers to fight it, or is even capable of arguing for the truth. They say the stuff is worth $1000, but the police report clearly says $1800. Sure, anything would be nice, but if my father has to make these business decisions for me, I want him to at least vouch for me, and do what's right, rather than being pressured into whatever the insurance company can spare. He said he's going to explain that my shit is worth much more, and I can only hope that he'll do a decent job. It pisses me off that he didn't even question the original value when he had a copy of the police report right in front of him. And I haven't heard anything from the detectives yet.

I don't even know if or what or how I should tell my coworkers. I would only tell one or two people max if they wonder why I'm so fucking stressed out. I don't want people to pity me. If I tell people that my house was robbed and that I lost a lot of my major electronics, they'll judge me. They'll assume, oh, he probably lives in a crappy neighborhood. And why? Probably because his family is poor. You see...I wish it wasn't this way, but this is how people think, whether they like it or not, and whether they choose to or not, its just the way we think.

So, for now, this will be my cross to bare.

aristotle

Aristotle’s ideas of the city-state as a partnership begin with the sense of community. He deduces that every community is established in the aim of creating good, and these communities are composed of mankind, which always acts in order to obtain which they feel is good. He decides to break down the community of state into villages and households, to see the origin of the issue.
In the beginning he sees the union of male and female as the root of community and state, for their “good” is to continue the species via reproduction, and this forms a union or household. Groups of households become villages, and when “several villages are united in a single complete community, large enough to be nearly or quite self-sufficing, the state comes into existence”. These smaller groups band together for a greater good, and Aristotle sees this as self-sufficiency, whether it’s through trade or organized labor, it’s just seen as a natural thing because man is said to be a “political animal”. He proves his point by concluding that the individual, when isolated, cannot be self-sufficing, because he was meant to be a part of a whole.
I agree with everything Aristotle discussed in these passages, because I was previously aware that humans are social creatures, and that we need each other to thrive. Not to say that a man is useless alone, but it just further proves that the creation of villages, cities, and societies are part of a natural order of things, the same way that bees have hives and social ranks to serve the community, or how a pack of wolves operates. I found this reading interesting in that he was able to make such profound statements about the world even before any scientific or anthropological evidence was around to support it.

see date

One true sentence.
Hemingway says start with one true sentence.
Last night, my room, my sanctuary, my friendly gamer haven was broken into. Things were taken, the safety in its perimeter tarnished. The keyboard seemed so empty without the outdated, oversized Sony Viao laptop squeezed in. I was pointing toward it to show the officer, C said "Don't touch it Marc don't touch it" and I told him I was merely showing the officer what went on.

The officer was tall and I remember C inquiring him about some badges, "Did you get those in the military?" Under his uniform on one of his arms I could see some patriotic tattoo sticking out, and he was ready to answer any of my questions. I worried that he might think I had some ulterior motive, like I was too calm, I only had .25mg of xanax sublingually when I saw C. It helped.

When I first heard the news and got off the train I had to showcase my anger in some way. I threw my keys, broke a lanyard and whistle, kicked a signpost repeatedly until some people examined me and I stared right back. Ran to the other platform and shoved a shopping cart as hard as I could down the edge, but I was controlled enough to pick it back up, and moderated my actions to an extent to where I wouldn't get in trouble. I've never felt blinded by rage before, I don't know if I'm too in touch with my emotions or not enough, I don't even know how i felt when I first heard. I was calm first. I couldn't do anything. What kind of man would stand up and hit someone out of rage? I was more pissed at my father than anything, he said

-Marcus the neighbor told me about something that happened while we were out, some people went into the house with a bag, what game consoles did you have? I think those are gone, you said a PS3? Yeah I don't see that there either

he sounded so stupid and nonchalant I just wanted to slap him. maybe that was the manifestation of my anger. there were so many questions unanswered, so much investigation to be done, so much fear of the integrity in security around the room, so much hatred of the degenerate scumbags who could do anything so dirty and despicable

I KNOW my emotions. I have HATE. I have ANGER. and I want VENGEANCE. C says that if he knew the car, we wouldn't be filing a report and i support him 100%. normally I am reserved. that night I would bludgeon the man that did this with my frail jew arms to the best of my ability. it numbed me later somehow. later i felt desensitized. now I am waiting, because all that can be done is out of my hands outside of later questioning. all i can do is trust the city government's will, the police powers' stake in preserving the Integrity of the State and community, and myself to learn from this experience.

God bless you all. I am a victim.

Crime

I've experienced crime a bit in my day. I've even partaken in some myself. But last night was a night I'll never forget.

I was riding home on the orange line from work, trying to make some plans with my friends, to have fun, when I got a call from my father. He briefly explained that a neighbor saw some kids leave my house with $2k worth of electronics and hardware. I no longer have an Xbox 360, PS3, a couple hundred dollar's worth of games, and my only working computer, a laptop inherited from my mom. I didn't really respond at first, just knew that I should go home.

I don't know who did it. Neighbor says two guys and a girl, one guy driving. But there is hope, we got 4 combinations of license plate numbers as to what they could be, and the make and model of their car, but the descriptions of the suspects are vague. Nonetheless, a license plate leads to registration, which leads to an address, which leads to my shit. C, my father and I filed a formal police report and at this very moment my father is at home waiting for some detectives to search my room for fingerprints. I don't see the prints as a big issue because the officer said most of the room was wooden stuff and don't expect them to find much via this route. But there are detectives...who will be working on my behalf! They're gonna scour the local pawn shops and try to find my shit.

I'm the last person who deserves this. I don't know what can be learned from this either. It's not so much about the electronics, but the principle. C and I did everything we could last night. I didn't even sleep in my own bed because I didn't want to mess with any possible evidence. I was uncomfortable with the officer searching my room with the bright flashlight because my room is a mess and I never vacuum. It's okay though, I'm sure they've all seen worse.

connecting with people on blogger

I spent some time clicking on the "next blog" button on the Blogger toolbar. More often then not, they were in foreign languages so that pissed me off and made me keep clicking. I commented on a picture of some woman's baby. But it's just annoying how I can't search for specific types of blogs that I want to read, specifically on blogger. I know there are sites that have the top 50 x blogs but I just want a blog like mine to appear.

How do blogs become popular? If I keep posting a lot, does that bump it up the list or something? I just see this as a good way to organize my thoughts when I don't feel like writing in my notebook, but perhaps if I go more in-depth about my life experiences it will be more interesting. I just worry about the length of some of my posts, I don't want to intimidate any would-be readers. I'm gonna smoke a bowl

blogs

My blog is a personal blog. That means it's like a journal for me to sort out my thoughts, and do a little writing, maybe some venting. I want to find some other people's blogs though. Maybe it will help me understand myself a bit, and perhaps I can comment on their blog, and it will bring traffic to mine. Now, I believe I have just stuffed the concept of personal blogging via social media in a nutshell, haven't I?
I wonder how I can find new interesting blogs. I'm going to search via this website, but a lot of them are probably about specific things that I don't care about. Because mine is the opposite of specific. My blog is general. It is also mine and all the posts on it are my original content. Sometimes it feels good to write in simple prose, with simple sentences, and without excessive description.

When a man cries

A few days I was sitting outside of a coffee shop with my friend C, while we were waiting for O to arrive. C has major familial problems; he's a foster child who has a fuckup for a sister, who together have been abused by previous, biological parents who are no longer seen, and his dad (the man that he lives with) probably loves his real son more than he loves him. C's dad is also bipolar, and a complete asshole, but there are rare moments when some love sticks its fingers through the bars.

Anyway, he made me think a lot about my dad. My dad, who's been doing work far below his skill level for twenty-seven years, and since he lost that job a year and a half ago, has been working a job that's even crappier. He assumes because there is paper, mail, and e-mail involved that it's white collar but it's not. But the point is, he's not a very materialistic guy. And I think he purposely didn't choose to advance his career, because one time he said, "all I wanted was to have a house, a wife, and a son. and I did."

and I respect that, even though the house has recently lost 30% of its value and requires my dad to take out his pension payments early to pay it off, and that my mother divorced him, quickly remarried, and died from breast cancer within 2 years (in 2006).

i had to excuse myself, walk around the block, sit against some brick wall connected to a panda express and a major street and let the choking in my throat commence. i tried to cry but couldn't. but some tears came out. a woman walked by and stopped and said "are you okay? do you need money" in a slight Russian accent. She was holding wrapped presents and wore shiny earrings.
I tried to respond but it was hard but eventually said "y-yes i was just thinking about my dad"
and she went on about how we can't all have perfect lives and have to deal with what we've got, even though she didn't understand why I was letting go of some saltwater.
I wasn't sad, I don't think. I was just appreciative, of all my dad's done for me. I love him but don't know how I can really communicate it to him like that. I ended up telling him just that, later in the evening but it was not emotional in the slightest, just like saying please or thank you.

mistaken identity

turns out that the supposed Xanax footballs my friend and I were taking were actually some shitty antibiotic. Got ripped off. However, the 100 supposed Ativan that he jacked from his grandparent's estate...it's not lorazepam, it's alprazolam. fucking crazy. took another 12.5mg of hydrocodone, like I did yesterday. I got sick last night though, because I took it with fucking antibiotics. Tonight should be better.

I saw the dentist and am still having weird sensations around something i'm uncomfortable discussing here. I will now floss religiously.

myers-briggs

a long time ago I tested as an INFP and took it in a traditional manner
this time I got something different and i'm going to disregard the results

My father

My father is depressed, keeps to himself, and works jobs below his skill level. I do not want to inherit these characteristics. However, I live with him, and want to preserve our relationship, and create a better emotional attachment. Before, this seemed like a paradox, but I think it might be possible. I've heard before...I know...only I can change things. Only I can initiate it. He won't, he's too stuck in his cycles. But sometimes I can feel bits and pieces of him rubbing off on me. I am my father's son. But I am not my father. I even have his middle name. I need to be goal-oriented and not a dreamer. But I am a dreamer. This is a long-term problem, but I'm sure moving out will help, though that is impossible to do right now. Living at home is safe and cheap and I must preserve that. This is a long-term problem.

Last night

I dropped off C and D's house. It was D's last night in California for a while. We had a bad experience with D last night so O and I were irritated with him. Anyway, I had promised my dad I'd spend some time with him at my house, and that I'd give C a ride home later, even though I didn't really want to.

I see C and D and I was really tired and irritable. D gives me back the copy of Bioshock that I left him. and I find out that C has taken too much Ativan, and even mixed it with some Sparks. This is bad because he is intoxicated and must go home to see his father, who he's had a huge feud with. C figured he could come in to my house but it was too late and I did not want to upset my father. I felt absolutely miserable about his condition, he could not see with his eyes open, his voice depressed and his gait stupefied.

I wanted to get rid of him. But he was apologetic, and a few times just asked me to leave him, and I told him I could not do that. We decided to go to 7-11 so I could get him a strong, sugary and caffeinated beverage but I knew it would not be enough. The plan a to wait for his father to "go to his room", in which C could sneak in and possibly go to sleep without seeing him. He and I both knew he had to go sleep at his house, though we were trying to delay his actual appearance. I believe things worked out though.

He also told me that if for some reason I don't feel comfortable chilling with him or O, my latest circle of close friends, that I should just say so. Sometimes I've been needing more alone time and it seems that I'm always stuck with people. I'm going to be more assertive about this in the future. But C has helped me a lot lately and I owed him that favor last night, and carried it out the best I could.

The Republic

The role of “guardian” requires him to be brave and in good physical shape, so that he can fight well to defend the State. He must have a strong spirit that brings morale; because it is a powerful enough force to leave the enemy’s soul “fearless and indomitable”. However, he must be equally dangerous to his enemies and gentle with his friends, which appears to one of the men to be impossible. The solution is that the guardian of the State will be required to “unite himself in philosophy and spirit and swiftness and strength” to create a balance. The men discuss the example of a well-trained dog: angry at strangers and warm to acquaintances. It becomes important that the guardian must be a student of philosophy, and a lover of wisdom and knowledge.

And depending on how high the guardian’s duties are, the more time, training, and effort will be required for his position, not to mention that he must already possess a natural affinity for the role, i.e. born a leader.

i want to be a writer

i guess i don't read enough in my off time. But when I have time to write digitally, i will NOT edit it, and will post it here so that it will be organized. maybe it will be cool to look back upon in the future. hopefully i do not stop trying.

if there is someone out there who is kind enough to comment, i will skim your blog and comment too. we can help each other in this cold desolate world

more

-Come in, come in! No need to stub about!
-Mr. Gerault I've-
-Have you investigated the issue yet, with the X?
-Yes, sir I have.
She took a breath, removed a pen from her bunned-up hair, and pushed the amber strands aside
-Alright, well, Forrest is giving us a little leeway with the delivery. But we haven't quite worked out the numbers yet.
-And how many people did you discuss this with?
-Just Leopold, sir.
-Okay, good, one is enough, and all we need. You understand how carefully we have to do this, right? The shit is highly regulated and is technically illegal, even though I'm in charge of processing the damn pills.
-Well, if you put it that way sir...
-No! We can do this, we just have to do it right.
A bead of sweat materialized at his brow but did not put a damper his high-profile business suit. The chirp of the phone begged to interrupt but it was quickly silenced. She looked him in the eye but also appeared to look through him with slight confusion.

He pounded away at his keyboard, the little tips and taps from the pressing and depressing of keys filled the room with a sense of urgency.

an exercise

Pie in the sky, red rudder, the better to see, flying high
Unlimited phantasy spasm whoregasm thick chasm
chink in the earth a satchel a backpack to match it
good graces hit ya with medieval maces to make bloody spaces
within the skin and body's sensitive places
a vagina, a vertex merely a gap
chic relaxed Benjamin Gregory broke his spectacles they made a gigantic mess on the floor
with all of the particles and all of the people couldn't get their eyes of his door

His desk gleamed of cleanliness. There were portraits of prestigious things around the retangular office. His legs switched positions occasionally as he worked like potatoes in boiling water but his business-minded shoes remained pointing towrads the door at all times. He heard three timely knocks on the door and spoke in its direction, "Come in."
Red, red was the first thing to come to mind, a well-fitted suit on a well-bodies woman. Blonde hair was next in view with a nose and face. Some light bounced off the edges of her own glasses which seemed more formed to enhance her features than her vision.
-Mr. Bugels, I've completed some recon about the X factor."
-Tell me more