(no subject)
Things to look forward to: Conclusion of 2nd coming, Scott Pulgrim 6, Scott Pilgrim movie, New Wheel of Time, WoW Cata, World Cup, New Harry Potter movie.
I bought the Les Mis 2-cd album. I really really like Les Mis. Which is bad, because I was so dismissive of it in high school. So dismissive. I went with Kim... I don't know if it was b/c we were in the balcony (and not far from the edge) or the loud noises, or just b/c she was with me, but she didn't enjoy it as much as I did. I think I embarassed her pre-show by referring to it as "less miserables" to random people. That sounds like a happy little title though doesn't it? For a happy little play. There would be fewer miserable people or something, less miserables. Regardless, the story was good, it was the (so-called) sung-through version, and I dug it. That and Fiddler. Probably my top 2. That's something that's big for me, having a top x. Like for girls I have my top 3; although, to be honest, it's really only populated by two people at the moment. I think it's 3 more because of a Bronx Tale than because of any other reason.
I haven't told anyone this. Not that. I'm sure I've mentioned that before. But this that is coming forthwith. -dictionary break- Dictionary confirms- forthwith is fine, archaic but fine. I stopped taking pills 2 weeks ago. Not, like, recreational pills b/c I never took those, but the ones prescribed for my "depression." Why? It was a long weekend, and I've always been bad about taking pills on the long weekends. Then, that tuesday, I was supposed to have a therapy session; so I axed for some time off and my supervisor was all "no, that's not gonna work." That got me thinking. He may not have said those exact words. But it got me thinking nonetheless. I thought to myself; mebbe there's a point there. Therapy hasn't been working, and therapists tell me it's my fault. They say I'm not trying hard enough. Which is, like, whatever, it's just, like, their opinion, man.
That's one reason to stop taking pills, another is because I was close to repeating the worst mistake I've ever made in my life, and although I don't really believe that their "medicine" has much of an effect, I also know that I hated the out of control feeling I'd get when smoking pot and one could imagine that if smoking a substance can make me feel outta control then perhaps I'm not fully in control of my faculties when inserting a foreign substance, in the form of pills, into my body. Not trying to be vague, by worst thing I've ever done I mean asking a girl out. Pretty rotten of me to impose that sort of unpleasantness on someone. Anyone.
Then it got me thinking. Still. Apparently I think a lot. Not that much. I've been watching Ghost Whisperer, saw all 4 seasons on dvd, no commercials. It's a show about Jennifer Love Hewitt lookin all hot and helping lost souls complete anything they left unfinished, or say the things they left unsaid, when they died. I thought, what would I wanna do before I go. What unfinished business do I have. None. I don't have anything to say to my parents, and so I don't say nuthin to them. I tried to help Kim see past her loathing, but she won't hear from me. Last time I contacted her (in Jan) she told me that if I tried again she'd file a restraining order. Can't blame her, I'm pretty rotten. Don't disagree with her when she said I was the worst person she'd ever met, quite the inditement from someone who's traveled the globe. -dictionary check- and I was wrong, because I'm not as smart as I should be; there's a c involved. Indictment. I felt like there was a c, but couldn't figure out why there would be. Heather, Carrie, Arlene, D'Ann, all I have to offer them is apologies, apologies that've already been offered and accepted; contacting them again would only bring them down.
Work would go on. As would anything else. So, upon arriving at the conclusion that I had no unfinished business, and not much to live for (as referenced above), I decided it was time to buy a gun. And use it. Clearly I haven't done so yet seeing as how I'm writing. I went to the gun store once; it was closed. I didn't wanna sit around waiting for them to open so I went to the go-kart track, it was closed. I didn't wanna sit around waiting for them to open so I went to the movie theatre, it was closed. I didn't wanna sit around waiting for them to open so I went home. Since then I've been either home, or at work, and then just home. Haven't been into work for 3 days. Might go tomorrow, might not.
There's no shame in this, in a man's death. A man who has done fine works. We're making a better world. It is a good day to die. Get busy... dying. Ah choose no tae choose life, if the cunts cannae handle that, it's thair fuckin problem. Had they but courage equal to desire. - on the back of a brown paper bag he tried another poem and he called it absolutely nothing because that's what it was really all about... and he hung it on the bathroom door because this time he didn't think he could make it. there's a grief that can't be spoken there's a pain goes on and on phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor, empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no more. the line which says woodland and cries hunger and gives out among sweet pine and cypress and finds no horizon will not be there. From hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee. I'm endangering the mission. I slept in the garage... and I broke all the goddam windows with my fist, just for the hell of it; I even tried to break all the windows on the station wagon we had that summer but... by that time I couldn't do it. He glanced at the girl lying asleep on one of the twin beds. Then he went over to one of the pieces of luggage, opened it, and from under a pile of shorts and undershirts he took out an Ortgies calibre 7.65 automatic. He released the magazine, looked at it, then reinserted it. He cocked the piece. Then he went over and sat down on the unoccupied twin bed, looked at the girl, aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple.
Because plagiarism is just tacky -- Serenity, Klingon battle cry, Shawshank, Trainspotting (book) No Second Troy, (in) the perks of being a wallflower, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, That the Science of Cartography is Limited, Wrath of Kahn, Return of the Jedi, Catcher in the Rye, a Perfect Day for Bananafish.
How cliche that I steal even those words.
The first time I felt like killing myself I only told Heather. I was so eager to believe her, I was so nervous around her, I was sooo rotten to her. But she's the one I told and she told me not to. And for years that was enough. Trying to figure out why I like Valentine's I credit her. Best Valentine's I ever had was when she (outta the blue) made me a card on her computer and included her photo. I kept that photo with me for years. I kept that card under my pillow for months.
The second time I really was gonna act on it I called XO. She flipped out and narced on me to anyone that'd listen. The cops, Don, who then called my parents who had never cared before that. That was bad.
The third time I told my therapist and went to the psych ward. It was awful. No one there trusts you, they all lie to your face and you're confined to a few rooms. Everyone just wants out, even the ones who came in voluntarily. the beds are uncomfortable, the employees have to work w/ assholes all the time, so you know they don't care, and they don't attempt to hide the fact that they're showing up for a paycheck. It's a bad place.
The fourth time, well, I wrote it in my journal here. Ain't nothing better, but at least I don't have cops making fun of me or nurses patronizing me. There's no shame in this. Half the damn country worships a man who knowingly walked to his death and did nothing to protect himself from it b/c he believed it was the will of God or something. That same half the country thinks that if you talk to God it's praying, if he talks back you're schizophrenic. Except for Jesus, and a few other prophets. Why would I want to stay here. The worst thing is, no matter how derisively I think of them -dictionary check- right that time, 2/3-- they're still better people than I.
If I go through with it, finally; it's important to remember the first line from 7 paragraphs ago. There is no shame in this and it's just the predominant western catholic (is that right? catholic or christian) culture that makes people wanna believe there's something wrong with it. In the east it was a way to restore honor, something to be proud of. There are so many other ways to think on it. People don't wanna be open about it, b/c I mean, death, right? But who's to say it's wrong. It seems kinda presumptuous to say that we know God is against it, how could we possibly know what It wants? I think God has a plan, I think that no one dies unless they were meant to. I don't believe that people go before their time. When your time is up why would it matter whose finger is on the trigger, or who's driving the car, or who's improperly packed your parachute. If it's your time, you're out; if it's not, then it doesn't happen; people survive that shit all the time. And if you disagree w/ me about God having a plan, or the idea that there is a God, then I'm sure you've heard of Charles Darwin, that evolution on the origin of species dude. He said (and I've never read on the origin of species either) something to the effect that creatures on this planet have genetically evolved right? There are species of monkeys w/ thumbs, and those w/o thumbs, or prehensile tails or w/e, and the stronger species survive. Did he ever ask what happens to the dead ends? How do they die out? Does he say they're all just not able to get their share of the resources and die out, or is it possible that there was some mental construct in their genetics, some kill code that realized they were bad, wrong, "weak" and implemented some sort of suicide protocol? Not all experiments turn out positively, there comes a time when you just gotta cut bait.
Also, in the spirit of misinterpreting song lyrics, which is present no where in this little diatribe, I never realized that DMX was so into bicycles. His song "what's my name" -- What ya'll really want? bmx, if you want it come get it all you gotta do is sell it ride or die. Just sayin.
I bought the Les Mis 2-cd album. I really really like Les Mis. Which is bad, because I was so dismissive of it in high school. So dismissive. I went with Kim... I don't know if it was b/c we were in the balcony (and not far from the edge) or the loud noises, or just b/c she was with me, but she didn't enjoy it as much as I did. I think I embarassed her pre-show by referring to it as "less miserables" to random people. That sounds like a happy little title though doesn't it? For a happy little play. There would be fewer miserable people or something, less miserables. Regardless, the story was good, it was the (so-called) sung-through version, and I dug it. That and Fiddler. Probably my top 2. That's something that's big for me, having a top x. Like for girls I have my top 3; although, to be honest, it's really only populated by two people at the moment. I think it's 3 more because of a Bronx Tale than because of any other reason.
I haven't told anyone this. Not that. I'm sure I've mentioned that before. But this that is coming forthwith. -dictionary break- Dictionary confirms- forthwith is fine, archaic but fine. I stopped taking pills 2 weeks ago. Not, like, recreational pills b/c I never took those, but the ones prescribed for my "depression." Why? It was a long weekend, and I've always been bad about taking pills on the long weekends. Then, that tuesday, I was supposed to have a therapy session; so I axed for some time off and my supervisor was all "no, that's not gonna work." That got me thinking. He may not have said those exact words. But it got me thinking nonetheless. I thought to myself; mebbe there's a point there. Therapy hasn't been working, and therapists tell me it's my fault. They say I'm not trying hard enough. Which is, like, whatever, it's just, like, their opinion, man.
That's one reason to stop taking pills, another is because I was close to repeating the worst mistake I've ever made in my life, and although I don't really believe that their "medicine" has much of an effect, I also know that I hated the out of control feeling I'd get when smoking pot and one could imagine that if smoking a substance can make me feel outta control then perhaps I'm not fully in control of my faculties when inserting a foreign substance, in the form of pills, into my body. Not trying to be vague, by worst thing I've ever done I mean asking a girl out. Pretty rotten of me to impose that sort of unpleasantness on someone. Anyone.
Then it got me thinking. Still. Apparently I think a lot. Not that much. I've been watching Ghost Whisperer, saw all 4 seasons on dvd, no commercials. It's a show about Jennifer Love Hewitt lookin all hot and helping lost souls complete anything they left unfinished, or say the things they left unsaid, when they died. I thought, what would I wanna do before I go. What unfinished business do I have. None. I don't have anything to say to my parents, and so I don't say nuthin to them. I tried to help Kim see past her loathing, but she won't hear from me. Last time I contacted her (in Jan) she told me that if I tried again she'd file a restraining order. Can't blame her, I'm pretty rotten. Don't disagree with her when she said I was the worst person she'd ever met, quite the inditement from someone who's traveled the globe. -dictionary check- and I was wrong, because I'm not as smart as I should be; there's a c involved. Indictment. I felt like there was a c, but couldn't figure out why there would be. Heather, Carrie, Arlene, D'Ann, all I have to offer them is apologies, apologies that've already been offered and accepted; contacting them again would only bring them down.
Work would go on. As would anything else. So, upon arriving at the conclusion that I had no unfinished business, and not much to live for (as referenced above), I decided it was time to buy a gun. And use it. Clearly I haven't done so yet seeing as how I'm writing. I went to the gun store once; it was closed. I didn't wanna sit around waiting for them to open so I went to the go-kart track, it was closed. I didn't wanna sit around waiting for them to open so I went to the movie theatre, it was closed. I didn't wanna sit around waiting for them to open so I went home. Since then I've been either home, or at work, and then just home. Haven't been into work for 3 days. Might go tomorrow, might not.
There's no shame in this, in a man's death. A man who has done fine works. We're making a better world. It is a good day to die. Get busy... dying. Ah choose no tae choose life, if the cunts cannae handle that, it's thair fuckin problem. Had they but courage equal to desire. - on the back of a brown paper bag he tried another poem and he called it absolutely nothing because that's what it was really all about... and he hung it on the bathroom door because this time he didn't think he could make it. there's a grief that can't be spoken there's a pain goes on and on phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor, empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no more. the line which says woodland and cries hunger and gives out among sweet pine and cypress and finds no horizon will not be there. From hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee. I'm endangering the mission. I slept in the garage... and I broke all the goddam windows with my fist, just for the hell of it; I even tried to break all the windows on the station wagon we had that summer but... by that time I couldn't do it. He glanced at the girl lying asleep on one of the twin beds. Then he went over to one of the pieces of luggage, opened it, and from under a pile of shorts and undershirts he took out an Ortgies calibre 7.65 automatic. He released the magazine, looked at it, then reinserted it. He cocked the piece. Then he went over and sat down on the unoccupied twin bed, looked at the girl, aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple.
Because plagiarism is just tacky -- Serenity, Klingon battle cry, Shawshank, Trainspotting (book) No Second Troy, (in) the perks of being a wallflower, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, That the Science of Cartography is Limited, Wrath of Kahn, Return of the Jedi, Catcher in the Rye, a Perfect Day for Bananafish.
How cliche that I steal even those words.
The first time I felt like killing myself I only told Heather. I was so eager to believe her, I was so nervous around her, I was sooo rotten to her. But she's the one I told and she told me not to. And for years that was enough. Trying to figure out why I like Valentine's I credit her. Best Valentine's I ever had was when she (outta the blue) made me a card on her computer and included her photo. I kept that photo with me for years. I kept that card under my pillow for months.
The second time I really was gonna act on it I called XO. She flipped out and narced on me to anyone that'd listen. The cops, Don, who then called my parents who had never cared before that. That was bad.
The third time I told my therapist and went to the psych ward. It was awful. No one there trusts you, they all lie to your face and you're confined to a few rooms. Everyone just wants out, even the ones who came in voluntarily. the beds are uncomfortable, the employees have to work w/ assholes all the time, so you know they don't care, and they don't attempt to hide the fact that they're showing up for a paycheck. It's a bad place.
The fourth time, well, I wrote it in my journal here. Ain't nothing better, but at least I don't have cops making fun of me or nurses patronizing me. There's no shame in this. Half the damn country worships a man who knowingly walked to his death and did nothing to protect himself from it b/c he believed it was the will of God or something. That same half the country thinks that if you talk to God it's praying, if he talks back you're schizophrenic. Except for Jesus, and a few other prophets. Why would I want to stay here. The worst thing is, no matter how derisively I think of them -dictionary check- right that time, 2/3-- they're still better people than I.
If I go through with it, finally; it's important to remember the first line from 7 paragraphs ago. There is no shame in this and it's just the predominant western catholic (is that right? catholic or christian) culture that makes people wanna believe there's something wrong with it. In the east it was a way to restore honor, something to be proud of. There are so many other ways to think on it. People don't wanna be open about it, b/c I mean, death, right? But who's to say it's wrong. It seems kinda presumptuous to say that we know God is against it, how could we possibly know what It wants? I think God has a plan, I think that no one dies unless they were meant to. I don't believe that people go before their time. When your time is up why would it matter whose finger is on the trigger, or who's driving the car, or who's improperly packed your parachute. If it's your time, you're out; if it's not, then it doesn't happen; people survive that shit all the time. And if you disagree w/ me about God having a plan, or the idea that there is a God, then I'm sure you've heard of Charles Darwin, that evolution on the origin of species dude. He said (and I've never read on the origin of species either) something to the effect that creatures on this planet have genetically evolved right? There are species of monkeys w/ thumbs, and those w/o thumbs, or prehensile tails or w/e, and the stronger species survive. Did he ever ask what happens to the dead ends? How do they die out? Does he say they're all just not able to get their share of the resources and die out, or is it possible that there was some mental construct in their genetics, some kill code that realized they were bad, wrong, "weak" and implemented some sort of suicide protocol? Not all experiments turn out positively, there comes a time when you just gotta cut bait.
Also, in the spirit of misinterpreting song lyrics, which is present no where in this little diatribe, I never realized that DMX was so into bicycles. His song "what's my name" -- What ya'll really want? bmx, if you want it come get it all you gotta do is sell it ride or die. Just sayin.