skateagain

Did you ever know a snippet of knowledge about Dr. Wicked? He's the long lost half brother of Dr. Horrible, actually. He's been working on a concoction of the most wicked things he can find. He's got a pot on a high fire brewing, stirring, cooking, looking, yearning, leaning over, smelling the fumes of diapers with broken velcro and stitches where the pooh and pee seeps out, the pill bottles mislabled as something else and you have no idea what you're taking, the Nexium mislabeled as Hydrocodone to the pharmacist's chagrin...or rather the patient's, the iPhone plug that won't accept non-Apple earbuds, the books with edges crinklecut so it's hard to flip thorugh them, the paper with the marginholes that are not reinforced and are so easily ripped out of binders, the french fries that are too salty and taste too salty, and yet you yearn fro the salt flavor so you keep eating them anyway in a cognitive dissonance-like fashion like cigarettes tht are so bad for you one would have to be insane to smoke, the lizard tails and skink tails that are cut off or even fall off in the burning eyes of a predator that regrow (why can't we harness this technology for humans? perhaps because tails are so simple) the keyboards that have the big groove in the middle that are more comfrotable at first yet are difficult to adjust for, people that hav trackballs set up on their computers for doing mouse-intensive music (my firend danny was working with FLStudio with a fucking trackball) the zippers that are meant to be attached backwards, but it's hard to tell, but they just don't weave, or stick together, the butter that melts on the countertop during the cooking process, so once it is chilled again its unable to hold its block form and becomes a grody amalgamation of milk and fat OH NO keep writing. the top buttons on your dress shirts, the stylish kind with the nice cut that are so tough to button you are faced with the conundrum of buttoning harder in minding that it might actually come off, or to give up and not button it and use that to yoru advantage in utilizing a new style, im sure you could make it work if you're alread buying nice fitted dress shirts like me, nd the backpacks that hang too low, and the messenger bags that flap against your body as you mingle arond with them in your flat feet (which prevented you from learning how to rollerskate you were the only one of our friends who couldn't nail it, but we are good enough friends that we showed you how, even though it only helped a little, it might take subsequent trips to really hrness the ability i promise to take you back on two dollar skate night wednesdays but i'll be wearing the rollerblades because they are easier, i cant evne wear those skates they feel like little ksateboards under my feet and the ground is slipping away from me, you gotta hold your feet sticking out diaganollly like this, angeled, sticking out, if they're sticking straight ahed you will fall, now lean forward just bit, yeah bend your knees and hahaha okay looking better now stand up straight get up and just you well skate on one skate at a time, yo push off with the other foot, yeh i know, but try it more, one foot at a time

marta

- What are you doing?

- Hey, stop, it's not ready yet.

- Why?

- Come on, don't hover over my shoulder

I just want it to be perfect. A brilliant teal shimmer of the waters below struck through the reams of the bridge where the air and light of the day seeped through. He raked a hand through his hair and let a sigh. Patterns of flowers bloomed on the ceiling and walls - covered with old cloth and tarp, with reds magentas and lavenders on a seat of yellow felt sky. She asked Bethany who she really admired. I think Tim's acceptable, she said. I wonder what his dick is like. She laughs haughtily. I don't know though, when it really comes down to it I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being naked around him.

Beth, you can't let your personal fears about yourself permeate unto others! Just because you take your showers quick and they're eventful isn't a reason to make someone else uncomfortable! You're going to do it, and you're going to like it. Just put a blanket over yourself, keep it dark.

I don't know. I don't know - it might be cold or icy or something.

Beth - you have no idea. Once you start making out and rubbing each other, you'll be all hot and warm and it's nice.

Beth starts to get up and adjusts her skirt.

Hey, I'm not done yet!

OK fine.

Beth just, just have him over and talk.

About what? It'll just be awkward.

No no! It's only awkward if you make it, if you want it awkward. Just think...sexy. And cool, it'll be alright. Doesn't the idea of being naked with another boy send those tingles down your spine?

Maybe. Sometimes. But if i'm feeling uncomfortable about myself...it just won't feel right.

Well, how can you make it feel right? What do you need, some candles or something? Come on. It's just in your head. Have a drink. Shit.

Marta, i'm just. I'm just not like you. you could do this whenever you want, i need help.

Marta grabbed two soft hands and looked into Beth's hazel eyes. I'm here for you. If I wasn't your friend or didn't like you i wouldn't take the time to help you. i want you to have this experience with this boy because i know you'll like it. You just have to be ready.

OK. Thanks. I'm glad you're here. Thanks, OK? Marta gently holds Beth by her shoulders. She's leaning back but is rocked forward by her hips and Marta's touch. Marta's nose twitches for a second and her eyelids flutter. Beth sighs.

What's wrong anyway, Marta says. I just want you to have fun.

Beth whispers and looks at her shoes. She inhales through her nose and whispers i know Marta. Marta slowly drifts her white hands up Beth's neck and holds her. Beth looks down and breathes softly. Marta leans forward and Beth matches her gaze. Marta smiles and engages Beth's pink lips and she shudders.

Marta...

Another kiss.

Hm ?

It's just been so long...since I've had this.

...

...I know

Their eyes meet and their lips follow. Marta cranes her neck to the side and runs a hand through her hair.

he found himself

He found himself concerned with the issues and ailments of others and occasionally, when at the homes of these particular others would, on a ritualized basis seek through pantries and kitchen drawers and make trips to the bathrooms of these others to discover any particular types of drugs or medications there were available and if they were drugs that he could abuse we would actually, under the cover of stealth open them and retrieve a small amount of pills, an amount he thought he could easily get away with. He also found it fun to analyze the people living at these homes and to think about what kind of conditions they had...like why does this woman take fluoxitine? Perhaps she is a depressed piece of mud and has self-image issues. Hahah, so good. You can learn much about a person by peering through their selections of amber and orange bottles. None of us knew, however, until some of our medications - unabsuable - began to go missing. I lost some allergy tablets and, it being about the time to renew a prescription have found myself without them for a week and a half and suffering from a crinkled up nose dripping mucous everywhere i shake my head it's quite terrible, and the eyes oh the eyes! they puff and swell and make me look Canadian. It must stop. The eyes puffy and my friend's thievery. So I asked my friends half-seriously if any of them were missing some pills. I kept it vague because it was just a hypothesis. Who would steal pills? If they were of any value, like Ritalin or Vicodin, they would have been kept elsewhere, or hidden from our parents so they wouldn't find out we were abusing them. Sorry, mom. But that's what you get for listening to the school psychologist. Sandy called me. She was crying, her ring of birth control pills was empty and she had just had sex with Donny the night before. I comforted her and said Sandy you have a 72 hour window and she said she knows she knows but the pills were expensive and her insurance was doing something because her dad's job was doing something and well it actually wasn't as big of a deal as she thought it would be and i was able to corral her into buying more and preventing a sour pregnancy.

a good scene I think!!

Okay so for the chive farmer and his son we can show that thing that demonstrates values at play with simple dialogue that has nothing to do with the scene but about the character

the father will be struggling something doing the same thing over and over again because he is traditional

the son will offer a solution that may not work but is something new because he is conventional and enterprising

so father talks oh shit Son I need your help (whats an example of something he needs help with?) sending an email? how do i send this email attachment i've clicked this button all the time that says add attachment over and over again

son says dad you need to click Browse (solution) for the file you actually wnt to attach (explanation)

have you even considered looking around the screen for a menu of some sort? (attack)

yes I have tried says the dad (defense) and no i didnt quite see the answer (passive response)

son says jeez dad we've been over this before (grumpy) its pretty simple, the browse box appears right after you click "attach" (explanation)

dad says its not my fault, the computer was making funny noises! (defense and displacement of problem) [beat] have you heard back from Cheryl?

I might have, if you weren't listening to my voicemail again...(passive aggressive almost)

dad retorts (aggressive) I would never do that! if i can't even send an email attachment how do you expect me to figure out your god damn cell phone? (anger)

well says the son perhaps you conscripted the help of an outside source (accusational) and you two were laughing about what a fruity juicy voicemail she sent me!

who would do that? there's marty and there's me. you're out of your mind. besides, that means you did hear back from her.

did you hear back from Ben about the case?

i might have, says the dad (playful) [we need to tone down how paranoid the son sounds]

son laughs well come on! (happy)

no i haven't, says the dad, but let me remind you again, don't you do anything with her until we find out what's really going on with her. (instructional) what would your friends think if they found out you were messing around with one of your relatives! [accusational]

we haven't messed around and we're not going to! [defense] and who would you be to talk if i made such a mistake? would my own father talk about my engagements?

i saw the way you guys were laughing about the sounds the printer was making. its lovers who are most likely to chatter about the most nonsensical things. it allows them an opening out of nothing. that's how it was when i met your mother. (factoid?) we were cracking up about the way the dog walked around with wet paws. it's almost like we were grasping at straws except it was effortless. but its only the littlest things that people who are in love would comment on. (nostalgic) or maybe people who are drinking or

-or people who don't want to listen to old men ramble about the past, retorted the son (popping memory bubble). [beat] tell me the truth about the investigator! (changing subject, moving on)

i haven't heard anything! take your time. if you really like her you should avoid her. (instructional) if you fall for her and we hear some news about the family i wouldn't know what to think.

what difference is it to you? and besides, what if this happened in days before you could hire private investigators? there'd be no issue. you know who married his cousin? (instructional and confrontational) Einstein. well, second cousin. who knows what Cheryl could be? first, second, third? it doesn't matter! (cocky)

its so clear you're enamored with her! he lifts his coffee cup up to his face and lowers it, as his talking interferes with the action. god damn it, why does it have to be her? he slams the cup and coffee spills out. of all the girls on this earth son it has to be your cousin!

hey, we don't know if she is or isn't yet. if she isn't do you promise to get off my back? (apologetic almost)

not if you're gonna be a little cocky sonofabitch about it. (aggressive)

OK, dad, come on, let's relax.

It made him irritable to think about what hoops he'd have to jump through to see her again. What kind of interaction would have to create? To falsify some sort of encounter? Once he came to her door with her necklace and knocked. Her roommate answered and he made her promise she wouldn't tell her he was there. He realized that was a bad idea afterwards. The girl wasn't even home so all he did was make a fool of himself!

Write or Die

James thought he saw her out of the corner of his eye. He sat in the main room of the housing community center, trying to read. He thought he saw her going into the laundry room, adjacent and through a window. He focused his eyes ahead, at the connecting hallway, flirting with the idea that she'd walk through and he'd get a quick reaffirming glance and return his eyes to his instructional writing book before she would notice. If he saw her and she didn't see him see her, it would be in his favor, for he would know she was there without her knowing he was watching her. If she caught him staring at her it would be horrible, worse than anything because it would reveal his insecurity and the fact that he can't get over her, and has not gotten over her and that he wants the day they met to be replayed over and over. It was true, but only to him. And that's all that mattered, because it was his fantasy after all. If she saw his eye and it was lowered toward the book, reading words and not her face, it would demonstrate higher value for him and work toward his favor as that was the image he was trying to generate.

he thought about how stupid this social politic was, why little mind games must be played, but told himself, "they are what have worked before. when I danced and smiled with her at the party first I planted the seed of my image. But i had to leave that seed alone before it would grow, and I danced with another woman to show that I wasn't stuck on anyone in particular - and for her to know this was priceless. it's what worked. I made her jealous and she came back to show me what dance moves she could do. she fought for me and won."

But still, there was no dance party here. This was a housing community center and it was quiet. There was a party of three playing pool, chattering loudly on the far end, distracting him from his thoughts somewhat and from his book severely. But he adjusted and waited for her to pass through the hallway so he could reaffirm who it was. Through a foggy window toward the adjacent laundry room a figure moved and it wasn't her. If it was her, she would carry her laundry toward him, because her apartment was on the close side of the building, not on the far side. This figure walked toward the far side and also looked different. The one he thought was her didn't enter the laundry room at all and simply passed around, only the light in the window made her blonde hair twinkle. That one might have been her. The one that got away. He continued with his book briefly before he got irritated and wanted to write down what just happened. How good a scene the actions and thoughts he thought would make for a story.

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?