:The opposite of good.

I dunno.

I view this sequence of events as both good and bad.

Ugh. To quote a better mind than mine.

Broke.

Job not paying.

Rent not giving.

Bills stacking up.

Endgame.

Resets.

If I can, I have to, I think.

It's hard to really put this into words. At all.

I have a place here. It's a good place. A nice place. It has all the things in it that I've collected.

I have to give it up.

I have a wonderful boyfriend, and a girl I'd like to squeeze. Neither of those will be going anywhere drastically soon. Regardless of where I am, that is a resolute certainty.

One of few presently.

The rest. Dust.

For the last few years, I've struggled at times, and excelled at others.

But.

This life of mine has lent no longer purpose than to survive.

Not much to write home about.

So. If I can, I'd like a second go please.

As much as it's going to hurt. I think it may be the best.

I will sell what I can sell, throw the rest away. Bar none save some art.

Then I will go.

Not far. But far enough.

My family on one side is more than happy to watch, and not do much else. That is my own situation that I have caused.

On the other side, I think they would be happy to help. Not with money, but perhaps with a place to stay while I work things out and become financially whole again. I stayed with them for a while during the summers when I was much younger.

The plan. Is to ask them to host me for a few months. To get a job out there for whatever I can make. Pay room and board. Get fed. Get physical. Get real.

It would mean, once again, getting rid of all but what I can fit in my car. Donating my avatar state to the wasteland. It feels right somehow.

In three months, with luck, I'll have money in the bank. Sustainably. After that?

I'd like to travel it up a bit. J wants to go, and I want to follow him. We haven't figured out just where yet. New Zealand. Thailand. Poland perhaps ;)

I have an open invite from my Aunt in TX. I get my passport, she fronts the ticket. I'd like to do that.

It's about decompression I think.

Would you call it running away? I might, but for the thought that I'm running to some place, not necessarily away. Being chased? Yes. Benevolently? The jury is still out.

I needed an outlet for this, and almost nobody in my current life really remembers that this space exists. So I think it will suit. I don't want to embarass anyone. It's better that LJ is a confessional.

I met a girl once. Beautiful. At the time I couldn't appreciate who she was, or what she meant to me. And at the end of our time together we didn't speak for a long time. Not out of animosity, or anything negative. We just... ceased.

And then, she came back into my life. Ten months after.

And still is in my life. And with a new set of eyes, I feel as though I am looking at Greatness. Unbridled and free. Descended from Amazonia, I think. The perfection of her physical form is rivalled only by her shining intellect. Both of those rivalled only by her spirit, and her charm.

She is one who is beautiful to me no matter what she is doing. From the simplest thing, to the most outward expression of the abstract, she sets my world alight. In such simple affairs as rinsing an apple, of all things, there is innate beauty. Most would assume that to love someone fully, you must find attraction in the extended self, in the public persona. I would counter to say that in order to truly love, you must also find equal pleasure appreciating the everyday actions. The ordinary. It is then that you see.

Because it is a closed journal, so to speak, with next to no readers, I get to be more adult here.

From her hands, to her face, to her back, and everywhere in between. I would like to be close to that. Profoundly. To forget where she and I separate. To make love to a soul like that! To make love from across the room, without even touching. Fingertips taking the time, hours or days, to trace the lines of existence all over the map. No urgency. Just time. That's all it would take. Just letting it flow. Like sand or oil or the Queen river. Just letting it flow.

Am I up to the task now? No. I am physically far from where I would like to be. But, for the first time in a while, in a long time, I feel that I would give up my vices and my lethargy to be a better man. Bar none I would cast them all aside to rise to the challenge. It would not be self sacrifice to. Not at all. It would be an offering. A heeded call to the credence of self actualization. What does it say that I am willing to change every facet of my being to learn what it is to be worthy of education in the fine are of Her? Is it madness? No. Is it the gravity? Yes.

To this end, I quit smoking again. I give up meat, which I would have done anyway, but it will serve. I promise to work out, and push myself beyond the limit of what I thought I could do. And even if she says no, then I will still thank her for pushing me to excel with even the merest hint of her smile.

Ahh catharsis. It is nice.

(If I don't openly hate you, none of this applies to you)
((If you're reading this, I probably don't hate you))

Did Myley Cyrus write her latest smash single? Fuck no.

Are you going to grow old and die? Unavoidable.

Are you addicted to something you'd rather not be? Yup.

Were politicians ever fair and honest? No.

Will they ever be? No.

Is the customer always right? Fuck no, and anyone who tells you different is full of shit. We pander because we just want your money.

Do I like you because you spend money at my store? No a chance in fuck.

Do you sound like a fucking baby when you bitch about four dollars on an invoice that you just didn't expect? Yup.

As a co-worker, if you ask a stupid question, ought you expect an equally stupid answer? Well, I derive pleasure from making you feel stupid when you ask stupid questions. So, yes, mostly.

Do you make more money than me? Probably.

Do I care? Immensely.

Will I get even somehow? You'll never see it coming, but it will happen somehow.

Am I competitive? Yes.

Do I care about your feelings? Close family? Yes, but only the good people. Lovers? Yep. Co-workers? Yep, unless you're annoying, or think you're my boss, then die in a fire. Customers? No. Salesmen and commisioned staff? I'll probably go out of my way to let you know how much I *don't* care.

Fuck? You!

Do you think I'm stupid because I neither smile or talk much? Yes.

Am I just bored with what you have to say and take no entertainment from it? Yes.

Am I fit to stand trial? Debatable.

Am I boring? Probably.

Do I care that you think I'm boring? Nope.

Past lovers, do I miss you? More than ever.

Current lover, would I give you up? Not for anyone or anything except your request to do so.

Why am I so angry and misanthropic? Because all of you piss me off in ways that I just can't describe fully. You ask stupid questions without intuiting the answer. You don't think before you speak. You fight stupid wars with stupid goals and stupid people cheer you on before being cut down fighting your stupid damned war. You are arrogant and a bully and a cheat. I don't like you and I don't like being around you because you have no heart and no passion, because you hate me for being me just as much as I hate you. I wish it were legally sanctioned to end your lives so I wouldn't have to deal with your shit.

Do you realize how much you piss me off? If you do, die in a fire. If you don't, you still deserve a swift kick to the face. Kicks, actually, just to be sure.

Do you need to tolerate me? I certainly hope so, because I've done alright tolerating you. Cause if reciprocation breaks down, you're basically fucked. I will beat your head on the corner of my mahogany desk until it begins to leak. I will smile for the first time whilst doing so.

Am I unstable? No.

Am I in denial about that? Possibly, but likely not.

Do the authorities and possible incarceration bother me? Yup.

Is that why you're still walking on unbroken legs? Yup.

Can I buy a vowel? Go right ahead!

Am I tired beyond words? Almost.

Have I finished venting? Pretty sure.

Am I going to bed? Right the fuck now.

In closing. To the stupid fuck who drives fucking slow in the fucking fast lane in his piece of fucking shit fuckblazer whilst I have a fucking place to be, FUCK You!

To the Customer who thinks she's hot shit cause she owns a twenty grand piece of harbor freight crap disguised as a Mazda? You aint, so get in line, bitch. You shoulda bought a Lexus if you wanted service.

To my boss? Blow me. You stand there like some morally righteous cunt who sucks up and is disingenous. I can see through it, and what mangles me more than anything is that you have stood on the backs of your employees in your quest to make new heights. I fucking hate you and the ground you stand on you douchefuck bully motherfucker. I hope you die in a fire, and I hope you burn for a long time before that.

To JC? Do I love ya? Will I ever not? You bet not :)

To Conn? Fuck you. I hope you die in the same fire as my boss.

To the Jewish? Why is it that I can say raghead in public all day long and as soon as I say Kike I get dirty looks. The only reason you're anywhere on top is because you have adopted the same tactics that your oppressors did during the holocaust. And right now, I don't know what's more shameful, the holocaust or the fact that you've become the nazi's yourselves. Fuck you for your misplaced sense of entitlement and your arrogant manipulation of common sense in the larger media domain. Fire. Die. Now.

To fools to and fro. I will not suffer you. I cannot. I expect not to be should I be foolish. Will slap when taunted by dumb questions.

To the Llama. *whip*

The church? Nyeh, I stopped fucking you a while ago. We can stay at arm's length.

To Twilight fans everywhere? Anne Rice's writing would eat the bitch who wrote that shit and spit out the bones.

To the Chan? B&?! Fuckya, I'll be back in three days.

To everyone and everything that I hate but missed in this roundup? YOu all know who or what you are, and as such I strongly suggest you die in the same fire as my boss. Cool? Thought so.

Sincerely, your lord and master, ~C

Or, hobo-couture, if you will :)

Yes indeed. The economy is fuckered. Hence, I proclaim this blog entry (mildly) important. Or at least intersting.

Soo

Yes

Patch thine jeans, home-make thy christmas gifts, repair thine old jalopy, do anything but spend. Yes indeed.

Personally, I'm not participating in this recession. I've lived in a recession of my own making for the last four years. Now that I have money and some level degree of job security, I'm gonna fucking spend! Within reason and with special observance of definable responsible limits. But I aint gonna fear. Not if I can help it.

So yeah, ran out of thought, but just had to say, Be hobocouture.

Y'know, funny things happen when you starve for long enough. For me, it was about two weeks subsisting on a box of cereal and various and sundry mid day sandwiches from the lunch wagon at work for the final few days.

Anyhow, fuck it, the story is secondary to the effect.

I went from feeding on fast food, lots of red meat, a couple packs of smokes a day, and lots of instant type fare.



To granola. A couple handfulls a day near the end.

I would have called it acute malnutrition, and perhaps it was. But, retrospectively, it was one hell of a cleanse and realignment. My body feels somehow stronger, more catlike, more lithe. I went from a sit down lazy job to intense physical labour inside a span of 24 hours. And went from fast food to no food. What a strange thing. But, both those factors helped the other become adopted by my body more seamlessly. I just smoked my last pack of cigarettes. Moved on to slightly less evil miniature colts. I actually get sick with smokes now. Just enough to make me go elsewhere for my vice.

The last time I experienced a whipsaw (near exactly like that was going into SJSA for the first time. My how history repeats itself. My indeed.

Ok, on with the buzz.

I went grocery shopping today, now that I've made a few days worth of wages. Hit three major outlets. Modern foraging of sorts. Or, in polite company, a nice european shopping experience.

Tonnes of grain type cereals. Real honest to god oatmeal. The kind grandma used to make. Though they are technically quick oats. Shall try harder next time. Wheatlets. The multipurpose "Tofu 'o' the prairies" Buckwheat. Brown sugar and whole cream. Those two make anything taste divine as childhood fondly recalls.

Brown rice. Whole wheat pastas, in bulk no less.

Fruit. Kiwis n grapefruit n apples n pears n strawberries. Tomatoes and yams. A lemon, oddly enough.

Enough nuts and berries and seeds to whip off a decent mix. I did. It tastes really, REALLY, good.

Whole wheat bread, by the loaf.

Milk.

Cocktail olives. Cause I bought the wrong kind last time. Sweet vs sour. Sweet for the win.

All that is kinda cool, but the kicker is that I went into the meat department, and pretty much flipped right around. Didn't want anything. I bought a salmon steak. That's all. I'm eating it right now. It's good. But, in regards to the majority of deadflesh, I can't honestly say there's a huge draw anymore.

So, in the end run discussion. My body underwent two huge shocks in the space of a day, and went through its serious delerium tremens. During that time, my biology came to retool itself to accept the fuel it was given. It liked the fuel and it wants more. I'm ok with that. It works for me. For whatever reason, it works for me. I'm not going to complain. I think that if I stick to it, I may well find myself relatively well off health wise.

That's all I got.

By the way, if you could hear the music I'm actually composing on the fly in my head you'd trip the fuck out. I was dancing around my apartment to it earlier. Wish there were a way to let you hear my mind. You'd like it.

Oh and what a week, what a horrid evil week. I swear :).

Nah. Wasn't that bad actually. A hairy thursday. A relatively sedate but productive Friday, and now I've landed at Naked. For the better, for the best.

I think I accidentally screwed a customer today. Shall call him back tomorrow and drop his extra fifty bucks back with him. They must have stuck together. The bills. Not the customers. Ahh well. The idea of karma messes with me. So, return the extra fifty.

OooOoOooH. Heh. Yeah. That boss I was telling you about? Yeah. After he finished tirading against and belittling me we parted ways and a bailiff showed up to serve him with a statement of claim (lawsuit) for sixteen million dollars regarding a barfight that he was involved in whereby the plaintiff recieved quite a bit of brain damage. He isn't the only defendant, there are a couple others served as well, but knowing him he was probably in the thick of it. It pays to be able to do a decent curse without thinking actively on the subject, or in other terms, it really is nice to know that the higher plane has your back. Karma. Not that I wouldn't love to see him get raped by the justice system but I hope it turns out ok. Maybe this will humble him enough without him being on the hook for bibs and spoonfeeding until the man turns eighty-five. If he doesn't learn his lesson, then perhaps the settlement should stick. Just my two cents on the issue.

Oh anyhow. Tonight at naked is some group musical orgy in benefit of the Walk for Justice. Support for missing and murdered Aboriginal women. Worthy cause. I'll be sticking around.

Oh great. Some producer just came and talked to me, no lie, and asked me to do some spoken word on an ecological theme.

Be back in a bit :D Gotta write something on the fly...

Well, I had to. It's a sorta rainy night out, good for wandering.

Not at my usual terminal. As such, I am slightly out of place. The man on the wall is staring me down from behind an enslaved globe. You won't get that line until you sit where I'm sitting, which aint that uncommon given I usually leave these entries up after I write em up.

Anyhow, Hi, I'm here. There's an indie band on stage belting out some nifty stuff. Sultry and croony. Croony may not be a word, but nonetheless you know that of which I speak ja? There'sa violin involved. And chimes. Most remarkable fusion. Almost takes me back to a moonlit ceremony in the woods somewhere with witches in longdresses and owls flapping through the trees on a mission. It's good. I like it. Can close my eyes and feel the leaves and the flame.

I hate sitting at this one but it's too damn loud up front for these bat ears :D
Shockingly still quite functional after all the abuse they've seen over the years.

I wonder if I'll ever get Ben. I know I've covered this before. But damn, still can't not cover it more. We move as one, him and I. If we walk into a place the vibe seems to scream couple, not that we try to make that apparent, and I certainly don't. But it just happens that way. Hands down.If I just grab him in a bearhug and kiss the hell out of him it could turn very very bad. SO, naturally, I wait. And wait. And wait. I've gotten everyone I've ever wanted now save him. And he's prety much the only love-want that I have at the moment, and has been for quite some time. I know one day he'll break, well after I've gone on to other things. Guaranteed. He'll figure himself out, and the pain of doing so will suck, but it'll have to be on his watch and his schedule. I hope I'm around to catch his fall if he'll allow it. until then what can you really do but watch from the wings and wait for the glass to shatter while weeping silently to yourself?

"To have such beauty veiled to the world is a crime, like plucking out the warm glowing moon from the star lit night sky" http://xxtwilightbellaxx.deviantart.com/

For a change...

I feel like I'm betraying my favourite haunt, and I may be, only temporarily though.

Didn't want to drive into the city so I'm stuck at the local hang to do instead.

Not soulless by any stretch, but certainly more sterile.

Anyhow, on with the show I suppose. Nothing but net (:D)

Boring saturday so far. Woke up around ten-ish, fucked around for a couple hours and then came here. That be it, that be all.

On a tangent to day to day happenings, I'm extremely satisfied with my new line of work. The gentleman I work for has a lot of rough edges, and rough acquaintances, but it's been made fairly clear that I won't gain any (more) rough edges or tendencies as a result of my exposure. I work hard, I go home. Tis all I want. His bookkeeper is going to love me though. Invoices get handed in every day from now on. Bar none. There will be no trades for services rendered. There will be no extraneous disorganization. He can pull that shit off, I'll just rake in the cash for the company. For myself. For SPARTA!!! Sorry, sorry, that was irresistable, couldn't stop myself.

Anywayhowfuck. Yes. I'm enthralled with the fun this job can bring, but devastated by how much potential profit he's missing out on.

Nothing I can say, all I can do is act. Inside a couple years I might just buy the company and remove his liability from the equation. If that's what it takes.

I recall a time when I was blind.
There was no form but that which we had made with our own hopes and souls' desire.
I remember one last whisp of that youth before it was taken from me.
It was good, but I was blind.

Now, I see far and wide, as an adult.

Yup. Definitely on my drifter game tonight. Mind you, drifting with purpose. Someone will come out and play tonight. They gotta. It's a perfect night for it. at least 25 degrees. Cloudless. Nearly a full moon. Plenty of demons and the more angelically aligned being hedonistic in a city populated by the human nature to be oneself. Its cool to see.

I half suspect that as the night wears on I'll find a nice perch somewhere. In the open. Breezy like. Maybe climb a tree or the Gazebo in Grant Notley. Its a beautiful night to sleep beneath the stars. Or at least dream. Y'know. Really dream. Like. Technicolor logic. The kind of dreams we all had as kids and forgot to maintain as we sojourned into adulthood. Those kind of dreams. The best kind :)

So warm and lovely. This just strengthens my belief that I am at heart a desert species transplanted against my will. Sunburns, when they happen, feel good. Like, really quite good. Can't wait to get more.

Browsed through an occult shop the other day. This ritual and that rite. They have a place, but should never be the cornerstone of any religious or, more aptly, spiritual identity. You may have the charm, but imbue it with your energy by what means feel right to you, not what the pamphlet says. They work, I know that, but you can't expect a single positive result if you allow yourself to be lead by the nose. Broadly speaking, I think the majority of spiritual species have the innate engrained memory to carry out whatever rituals they have carried with them down the genetic tree. All that remains to be done is hoisting that knowledge from the depths of precognition. I'd like to think I've done it. So can you.

Johnny Cash on the overhead now. Some ballad about the road to happiness. Fitting to the above topic. I've never been able to catch lyrics that well unless I focus on them. Voices in song become just another instrument complimenting the orchestra. indefinitely bound and symbiotic to the beat of the drum.

Hendricks now. Interspersed with MSN chatter. Have always appreciated the man. When I was younger, it was for his rebel nature. in old age, I marvel at his ability to create soundscapes unparraleled by many others I've heard. Poetry right? Ever seen poetry? He has, guaranteed. Sublime wonderful stuff. The guitar is secondary but essential to the process.

James Brown. Payback. Heard this for the first time watching some Mel Gibson vehicle from the mid nineties, should have heard it sooner. Struttin song. But a speacial kind of strutting song. Anyone can strut to the beegees but it takes balls to move to this stuff and do it properly. The pimp walk, with a decidedly tribal bassline. Once again, vocals escape me. It all just sounds like another musical note.

RAWWWWWHIIIIIDE!!! Torn here. I loved the Blues Brother's rendition of this one. It has the flair. The original isn't half bad though. Not really. Just certainly a different take on it.

Speaking of the Blues Brothers... If I could point something out. There was only ever one Blues Brother's movie. Ever. Period. Full stop. Fuck you hollywood for graverobbing and then necrophiacally rectally violating what was a classic film that should have been allowed to rest in peace. Dig?

Corbe Lunde (I think). Yup. I can put up with that. The only country-ish band that I'd love to see live. Like, really and honestly. Their music is so tongue in cheek. So very much so. But, that is a good factor leading me to them. Country isn't allowed to take itself too seriously. It's the underdog, we all know it, anyone sane knows it. So, a good measure of humor goes a long way towards legitimizing it as a genre and keeping it fresh and alive. "The Ford got stuck..." nuff said.

Quiet here tonight. Nicely so. But odd after having been here in the daylight. Not to the extreme end. But it *is* different somehow. Ahh well. What can you do. The magic will never leave, but it certainly is allowed a night off now and then.

Ceiling cat says Hi ;)

Smoke break!

Very quiet out there tonight. A very quiet night. Not sure what it'll herald for me. Guess we'll find out...

Cheers and goodwill, ~!

Actually, an edit of sorts.

I took the time after finishing this entry to look up the Solomon's grimoire. Angel and demons and the sort. Very compelling. And As I stepped out for a smoke, I was approached by a young man. he said "This city is a good city, on the light side. The dark side is bad. Angels will protect us though. From up on high they will" No doubt the most profound sort of philosophy to come from a young man. Timed perfectly with looking up things like the grimoire. Disconcerting I suppose. But within reason and law, I should expect nothing less. It is going to be an interesting night.

The magic is back. I can feel that.

I thought to myself "Clay, you should get to bed early, y'know, get some extra sleep"

So, I went to bed at like eight thirty.

Its like, 2:30 in the morning now. Yep. Real fucking great. The weather outside is absolutely beautiful. Like top notch early summer night. Fifteen degrees. Cloudless. Tiny breeze. I'd go for a walk, but it's two thirty in the freaking morning. Which drifts back to the original issue of sleeping too soon.

Music: [Blue Foundation] Sweep (Mikkel Metal Vox Reshape)

Have been spending a lot of time on Deviantart lately. A literal shit ton actually. I'm coming close to that ubiquitous internet community threshhold where membership and tenure are creating a snowball effect in the realm of pageviews and comments to my stuff. Me likes. Great community. have watched several talented artists from their beginnings and how far they've gone. Most of their successes due to a nexus like DA.
.
.
.
.
V


Desktop screenshot.

Anyhow, rambling on...

I ought probably try to get some sleep. Probably. Try. But not much. Honestly.

I don't want to go back to bed.

Well, no, I do, but there's not a lot that's going to make me commit to it.

Just looked up classic signs of burnout. Yep. I has them. In soviet russia, burnout has you.

Did the About.com quiz:

Low Job Satisfaction / High Burnout Risk:
You are in a situation that puts you at a significant risk for burnout, and you should carefully look at the areas of your work life that cause you additional stress. You may be able to make some changes that can help you experience more job satisfaction, such as asking for clearer job requirements, better compensation, or more time off. You may, however, want to do some soul searching and reconsider whether your job is really a good fit for you. You can also make your lifestyle a greater source of satisfaction by increasing the level of lifestyle balance you have in your overall life and working harder at having time for hobbies and strong relationships. Self care is an important part of wellbeing as well, and it's very important that you take time for this. All in all, you need to remember to nurture yourself so that you don't burn out. (Please see the resources below for help with this.)





HAH!


Yeah, this has turned into quite the rolling freakshow of a journal entry. *snicker*

Despite the decided lack of readily available gin, on I go.

Random image searches on Google. Are lots of fun. I just googled random sex, mostly to find an image suiting the resource category. Try that some time. There's some really freaky random sex out there. Suffice to say, you will not get a sex picture from me today.

So I guess its like Victoria day on Monday. Long weekend for me. See Gin, above.

I suspect the boys will be taking me out for lunch on Friday. As long as I've worked there I've not had the ability to say yes to that. Mostly because I've been literally tethered to my desk until now.

We did hire a new guy though. He can handle it. Done lots of GM, which is good, ironic given our status as a Mazda dealership. But, we sell ten times as much Domestic product as we do import. So, in that sense, he's perfectly suited.

Anyhow, in closing, closed. :D

Three Things You Want To Do Before You Die:
1.) See the Northern Lights
2.) Make it to Base Camp on the southern ridge of Mt. Everest
3.) Prove to myself that the earth is round by going somewhere that has light for 24hrs a day and watch the sun make a full circle

Three Names You Go By:
1.) Clay
2.) Smith
3.) Mr. Smith

Three Screen Names You Have Had:
1.) Silvertongue
2.) S0ulsurvivor
3.) Hobocouture

Three Physical Things You Like About Yourself: = your looks
1.) Height
2.) Shoulders
3.) *giggle*

Three Parts Of Your Heritage:
1.) Irish
2.) Russian
3.) A wee smidge of native american.

Three Things That Scare You:
1.) Getting caught
2.) Raging out
3.) Losing respect

Three Of Your Everyday Essentials:
1.) DA
2.) Coffee
3.) Cigarettes

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1.) Black tee
2.) Skate shoes
3.) Wristwatch (right hand, always worn it that way)

Two Truths And A Lie (in no particular order):
1.) I like to bite during sex.
2.) I have a thing for furries.
3.) One of these three statements is a lie.

Three Of Your Favourite Hobbies:
1.) Painting
2.) Driving
3.) Torpor

Three Things You Want To Do Really Badly Right Now:
1.) Smoke another cigarette
2.) Have a coffee
3.) Sex.

Three Careers You're Considering/You've Considered:
1.) Police officer
2.) Lawyer
3.) Mindless drifter

Three Places You Want To Go On Vacation:
1.) Cuba
2.) Arizona desert
3.) Nevada desert

Three Names You Like:
1.) John
2.) Persephone
3.) Echo

Three Ways That You Are Stereotypically A Girl:
1.) Narcissistic
2.) Take forever to get ready to go out, but DAMN I look good.
3.) Can't help but want multiples.

Three Ways That You Are Stereotypically A Boy:
1.) The smell test. Nuff said.
2.) Room is a mess.
3.) Can't cook for a damn.

Sat next to a man looking for answers about neurophilosophy.

Watched the colorful tumbleweeds float by.

Got flirted with not once but twice on one smoke break.

One was handsome, the other cute.

Pondered life.

Listened to the american prayer. Lizard king (or, I suppose, Jim, as he would have preferred it)

Pondered life more.

Fiddled on Deviantart.

Brother and sister sit next to me on either side, one lost in youtube, the other screen hidden.

There's a very unique magic to this place. Always has been, and hopefully always will be.

And really, what less would you expect?

In the days before time was such a pressing concern, there were gatherings around tribal fires. Philosophies discussed in grunts and monotones. Starseekers looking for answers. Shaman healers and the melody of soul translated through the drum's beat. Such sublime musics of the soul and the heart.

Is it such a strange thought that such places still exist? Held together by the hand of man? Or willed to be by the hand that tends to the cradle of mankind?

It matters not, because around this fire, we are all ourselves.

We. Are. Naked.


~C

...Suck.

Well, they do.

Anyhow. Wondering what today will bring.

After a couple days of relative solitary thought I'm really REALLY horny. Like, I've been walking around all morning without so much as a conflicting thought of any kind on the subject. For the boys in the crowd don't worry, I still like you :)

By the way, did you know that 300 or so willing coffee beans sacrificed their life so you could enjoy that coffee XD. Mmm, tastee beans.

I'm having a wonderful morning by the way. Woke up at like seven. All energetic and ready to rock. Not sure what I'm supposed to rock, but something will come along. Decidedly.

Listening to a Cedric Gervias mix. It's motivating me to move. Or at least it could be said responsible for how fast I'm typing.

I dunno. It's still early. Much to do.

I ought go find Luke and get some training done. That won't be for a little bit though. The sixteenth will be my last day. Thereafter I'll be on the road. Just me and my trusty three headed hellhound/gatekeeper. How strange it is that we allow ourselves to be drawn by the nose for so long then one day we snap and start fighting for our own right to move as we please. Independance is fucking GREAT. Scary to behold at first, but great.

Naked addict that is. Thrice in three days? Yeah. That counts. Just don't want to go home is all. Nothing there. Least within these walls there is a blissfully significant something.

Can't wait for the road. Really can't. It's just one of those things. Greg will find out monday that I've quit. Or at least given the appropriate notice.

Shouldn't have taken holidays. Really ought not have. It's made me stir crazy. Utterly so. There is utterly no routine to be had. Nothing. That's perhaps the best way to go about describing it. Idle hands and all that. Literally have crawled the walls the last couple days. It probably broke me up with Echo. Wasted lots of time and money. Took it's toll physically. It's really hard to believe it but I've been reprogrammed somehow. Can't take time off that isn't structured anymore. Not allowed. Not canon. Sucks.

Well, THAT was interesting.

I just went and stood out front. Within minutes I was ministered to by what I could only call a prophet of Apollo. Heroes and villains. The end of the world resultant. Then proceeded to watch the demons and crazies roll by. Pretty sure I saw apollo too. Yep. The crazies are out. In force. It's a good feeling. Don't feel quite so alone now. Not at all. I think I'll go peoplewatch or something. This is going to be a good night. Always a blast.

Naked does that :P

Incredibly soothed right now. It's like some floodgate broke and reality returned to me. Connection reestablished. All of a sudden. I won't overanalyze it. It's exactly midnight plus one. The next day. Friday is over. The weekend has begun.

Works for me. I think I need to go home and rest. Get a sleep on. Something. Coffee makes me tired this late at night. I can't figure that out, just know that it does. No complaints. Tastes better than warm milk.

Sleeptired.

I read once that the probability of tourettes turning into full blown schitzophrenia by the time a male turns 26 is high. Today makes me wonder if I'll be one of the ones taking that path. It was a bad day. Woke up around noon. Not feeling much except tired. Very tired. Struggled awake. Didn't have much apetite but forced breakfast on myself. Hung out with Echo. Felt totally disconnected from everything, despite trying to connect. Weird thoughts. Skittishness. Sketchyness. I hate being like that. Not in the face of everything happy that could possibly happen. Can't track my thoughts. Sudden bursts of manic energy followed by deep introspection.

"The skeletons in my closet outnumber my waking days. When their bones rattle, the days turn grey, this is one of those days. Sorry"

That about sums it up. Today was grey. Very grey.

Ahhh well. Perhaps it's the fate I'm consigned to. Damn sight better than totally losing it. I can deal.

Little fragments of poetry clinging to my logic. Hard to get rid of them. Intensely.

Oh well.

Reality returns.

Have found a name for my blacked out tahoe. The vanity plate will read CERBRUS. The gatekeeper. Fitting given my move into a more lock and key state of being. If the Tahoe is cerberus then who does that make me? Someone out there know the myth a bit better than I?

Well, whatever the case right. Can't keep a thought on the go for more than a few minutes now. Only happens once in a while these days. I'll cope. Done and done.

Another open mic night. Good stuff. Poetry. Spoken word. music. All exceptional. Waiting for a call. Echo. I've had her now. In the flesh and in the mind. All exceptional. She can't figure out why I can't not look at her. I can't well help it. I could give an answer but that's the worst I could possibly do. Because, the answer is simple and blunt. Because you are you and I could not look away even if hades compelled me to. No more. No less.

We read her tarot last night. Both of us saw meaning. We should probably accept it. I just hope that it is an amicable end when it comes. I really do. Regardless she has my alliegance once we part ways. No doubt.

I'm not the best with words when confronted with a willing heart. Never have been. Comfortable silence is a gift for the tongue tied. Where words fail the music of the heart sings willingly from the rooftop of my mind.

But yes. I've had her. Physically now, mentally first. As she so interestingly put it: "Usually the people I sleep with are naked before me, how odd that you talked me out of mine first" *smile*

I'm fairly certian she wanted me. It wouldn't have been as easy otherwise.

Anyhow. Far from being the Cassanova of Alberta, I humbly admit that what I've got I'd like to keep. Because I don't think there is much better out there. A profound statement. Trust me. I've looked.

OoOoooOkay. Nuff of the mush stuff.

I'm quitting autoworld. For real this time. It'll be two weeks monday and I'll be on the road in the riskiest bit of venture that I've undertaken in this lil life of mine. Apprenticing as a locksmith. Mobile. Paid well enough (I hope) that things will shake out. I have my fears, but at the flip of that coin I see the possibilites just as clear. Don't think I can ever sit at a desk again. Not until I've mellowed. No way. I've stopped wearing cuffs and collars. I'm making mistakes. My heart just isn't into it anymore. So severe is the coma that I'm willing to bail on the job that really and honestly made me who I am. I'll never break, but my flexibility is waning. Y'know.

Ahh, and had to throw my couch out. And my vaccuum. Bedbugs. Yicky. *shudder* Re-arranged my living room according to the lack of couch. Turned out better than I'd hoped actually. The energy has reformed itself hugely. I just helped.

Ok. Nuff said for now. *wink*

Oh yeah...




Guess you really fucked that one up huh?

This is why there is no such thing as perfect. A flawless beauty would be blank without any appeal nor character. Its scars are what defines it and what inspires emotion... from that moment, it becomes art.

You want to call me a fag? Let me tell you something. In my broad range of experience the hatred you posess against something so intangible and unimpeding to your daily life still astounds me, still boggles the fuck out of me. I understand that you of all people around you have been steeped in the redneck rhetoric of your forebears, and I get the fact that you have no alternate point of reference with which to make your decisions regarding prejudices, but hear this. For the last two years I have been here, one of those years in direct employ of your department. From the moment I walk into those doors until the moment I choose to leave at night, my mind is on one thing, making sure that whatever you need is provided. Your supplies and your fucking needs are what drive my day. I have said numerous times and numerous ways that the only reason I slave away at this fucking desk is for you. because I enjoyed working for you. Because despite the trials and the tribulations and the traumas of working this job you people need someone like me doing the work. I do this for you.

You would be willing to sacrifice the selfless nature of my being for the prejudices which you seem unable or unwilling to walk away from? What makes you so morally righteous in your determination of how I should feel for living the life that the same god you worship so ably provided me? What gives you the fucking right to look down on me? What gives you the right?

I coudl easily denigrate you as severely. Call you a burnt out old man who is too stuck in his ways to leave this place. Crotchety. Opinionated. Utterly foolish. Stunted. Wasted by his years. Lost in a former era of intolerence. I could. But it is not my place to do so. There is no sport in this, you are who you are. I respect that. Perhaps you ought consider taking a pacifist lesson from my personal rulebook of life, otherwise known as live and let live...

I expected better from you. Much better.