I'm tempted to blame my slow evolution (de-evolution?) into a shut-in entirely on this year's theme of "Let's get sick as often as possible", but that would be leaving out my instrumental role in this retraction.

Every once in a while I make desperate attempts to branch out, but these hardly ever change things. In the end, I am spending most of my days at home, doing passive things and generally killing time between cradle and grave. I make vows and wishes to wake up tomorrow as not someone who is automatically better, but someone who has the drive to make himself that way. Tomorrow, I'll start exercising again; Tomorrow I'll do my work; Tomorrow I'll try to work out my problems with people and people's problems with me.

Obviously, I'm expecting something to happen with no effort. I mentally call people out for doing this so often, and naturally it is what I do all the damn time.

Yes, I know what I have, and I'm grateful for what I have. I'm employed and paid well, I am pretty certain of what I want to do in my life, and I have family and friends who love me and who I love in return.

What I lack is motivation. Motivation to climb the first steps toward my eventual future. I know I can't give up, but I feel like I can't move forward. And the thought of staying with my family for more than a year, even if I do just have to stay just one more year, gets my stomach churning fiercely.

oh yeah and something about wine. Look, I'm just a little peeved that I get singled out for complaining about my troubles on my Livejournal account. That's the point of the damn thing. Okay? Okay HOly shit I forgot my speakers were behind me. God. Thought I was dying.

So apparently people aren't even tested for swine flu anymore. IF one's general flu results come back as type A, the response you get is "You might have it".



I do, however, feel like shit. Mm-mm-mm.

And I still have a boatload of essay to do.

This is adding up to a whole bunch of fucking stupid.

So, family gathering kinda sorta. Woohoo let's go awkward powers.

POINT ONE: The dogs that my dear aunt and uncle laughably describe as "well-behaved" actually weren't so bad. I have known quite a few dogs in my lifetime, and I know very well how utterly excited dogs can become when company arrives. That being said, these dogs get abnormally excited over just about anything. When you enter their household, you see these two beasts running, jumping, lashing their tails and indeed their entire rumps back and forth, bursting with so much mirth that they seem inches away from heart attacks.

Fortunately for them, they are gigantic muscular fucking powerhouses who will not expire from such activity, allowing them to beat the shit out of you (which is their innocent way of saying hello).

Thrpoint flive: Oh yeah, and apparently a cousin of mine is gay, and currently lives with her girlfriend. Discovered this when my Uncle, Aunt, and Grandpa spoke about it like she had just fucked twelve sheep on a densely populated subway.

We had a dry white 2006 wine with the appetizer (Pizza Rustica), which complimented the various cheeses and meat perfectly.

Quest: Don't be such a socially awkward loser

Overall Progress: A shrug and some numbers.

Tonight's Progress: Not so bad at all.



Tonight's Wine: 2001 Tobin James Merlot

FUCK
FUCK
CFUFKC
FUCKFUY
HFIUC
AAHG
GICUFKCUFKC

AFUCK
A
FUC
KA
YYESHHHNFGDSMNO!

this is why
you are not
in charge of
your virginityy



















ARE YOU PREPARED
\OPENOING
#
!@
GO!
And the rave is reaching its conclusion as Doctor Jimmeny is doing the stray cat strut sideways to the square route of negative finish line coming up in close twenty third is your lover and everyone's F5 key the F5 key and finisdhing in right now is my wwater bapottle tghis is my hero

LET _S GO

my hairtis prewtty gy and it's long.

HARD
AND THEN
YOU ALL
HAVE A WERY WERY NICE FIVCTORY PARTY

suddenly i'm all self conscious
and they generally think the US is a very bad country

SEE YOU IN FOUR HOURS!

pretty much.

The first words of the poem still echoed in my head, long after they had escaped my classmate's mouth.

"Bring me the sunset in a cup", she said, pronouncing ever consonant crisply and carefully. English seemed more like some sophisticated art form than a language when she spoke it, expertly releasing phrases and passages that most would cough up in a slurred, shameful manner.

Though I tried to understand some of the things she said after that, none of it really made sense. Still, I could have listened to her speak all day, carrying me away with visions of middle-aged retail workers, college dropouts, and kings demanding the sunset in a cup.

Although if you asked me who she was, the most you'd get from me is a blank stare.





emily dickinson makes me feel really, really stupid

Borderlands is a FUN game. Like, I didn't know what to expect, but it is a game seemingly hand-tailored for me and my friends (and, apparently, a hell of a lot of other people).

Okay. Essay tonight. I'm going in tomorrow with a completed draft. Enough fucking around. I will pass this class, goddammit.

SHOOT YOUR SHOT
ROUND 1
FIRE!

~Requirements~

Jean-Shorts: Check.
Trophy Belt Buckle: May be more difficult to find than I had figured.
"#1" Bling/Gold Chain: See above. Also may be expensive as shit.
Ears and Tail: Check. Collecting dust anyway.
Aviators: 15 bucks. Easy.
Haircut/Blue Hair/Gelled to maximum spikiness: The sobering reality of this costume has just hit me.
A wonderful Halloween costume: HOPELESS

Lame. I hate my lack of Halloween spirit. I do so wish I had more.

ON THE PLUS SIDE

I am actually feeling much better about myself as a person.

OH BUT I AM STILL A LONE SQUIDDLE SEARCHING THE BRINY SEAS FOR MY ONE TRUE TANGLE BUDDY

the search shall continue
I MUST NEVER LOSE HOPE

ADDENDUM

It would be so awesome to run a real Reaper's Game. Er, well, not real. Like, collect players' cell phone numbers, give out missions requiring players to solve puzzles, beat certain Reapers in some form of sport or game, etc. I don't know how Noise would be simulated, and how players would be eliminated...

Oh, wait. Reapers live off of the points they earn from erasing players, so perhaps it could be sort of like Zombies in that respect. After a certain day, the GM could recruit a bunch of people to be Reapers and have them assault players somehow...

HURR HURR NEVER GONNA GO TO A REAL COLLEDG o _ o

Last night I got scared shitless.

I was in bed, trying to fall asleep, and that's just when I remembered that my days are numbered and sooner or later this consciousness that I call my own will slip into oblivion. I figured it would be rather like falling asleep, but I'd never wake up, never dream, and never have another thought.

Those blank spaces in between my dreams and reality would be stretched into eternity, and I will never exist again.

It's definitely time to start branching out again. Existential quandaries are the number one symptom of too much time alone with oneself.

I can't think of anything anymore.

lalala la la la la la

today hurt my eyes
like
they still hurt right now

okay here we go
Today I woke up and went to school and played the world ends with you for pretty much the entire hour until I finally got to speak to my professor and that took a half a minute YEAH

then
nothing
nothing
noghtgn
tnoghti
thiggs
cedwick
hurrrrrrrrrrrrrts
but still

lazy
that's how it's beeen for a while now
i miss everything
tomorrow is something
let's try for two hundred percent
overdriive
fortify the lancaster willfully with seventh rooow
hunker up and shoot them down with nothing left on which to gooo
kxaj aj loho jkifat nxuk kxo xocc um a teadw aaah a wiojj no'ho roadw ucc hokuhtot udt jfoubadw u visbadw SOFXOH CUDWIUWO. Utmakkotco, a um sxoukadw u cakkco, rik walo mo u rhoub, ak'j rood u nxaco.

U xefo oei odzeoot houtadw kxaj uj misx uj a odzeoot coadw semukejo ed u rot ev cunooj.

Everybody do the harlot dänce
Everybody clapping your häns

Wyoming. Let me ask you, dear reader, what you know about Wyoming. Do you in fact, know anything about Wyoming? You may say so. You may say “I’m from Wyoming” or “My cousin lives in Wyoming”, or most likely “I have visited Wyoming”. Charming little delusions, for sure. But unlike the beautiful, mountainside paradise of Colorado, Wyoming does not seem to have anything particularly memorable. Sure, there are few who argue that is has a national park or a few bears, but those few dissenters cannot deny the ultimate truth: Wyoming does not exist. There is no such state. For example, the majestic state of Colorado - a state hand-sculpted by God and only his most trustworthy angels - one feels an unmistakable tranquility in one’s heart. It feels like the afterglow from one of those perfect orgasms that make you feel at one with the universe. Wyoming is more akin to taking a cold shower because nothing happened because Wyoming doesn’t fucking exist.

Well damn, A+ here I come.

( Click to read more... )

So Gravitation has the most emotionless English voice cast ever. All I could think of while watching it was "Good god, even I can do better than that." Ptthhbbt


I need to stop being sick, pronto. ug ug ug

just in case you need the shit properly scared out of you

Lettuce review the facts. You've mustard up olive the worcester jokes you had, yet you still relish yourself a hero.

Wild Wild West is pretty awful. I haven't even seen any giant spiders.

Awful day + Auntie Anne's Pretzels = Pretty okay.

Also Pretty okay + Relient K = Maybe we can rock one day.

Soon, I hope this pipe dream can be more than just a Police song running through my head.