2021 in retrospect

A few things really.I know I’m kinda boring on FB but that’s fine with me, I’m kind of invisible on the whole “Let’s post shit to feel better but end up pissing one or two sad people off” scale, and I try not to buy into the fact that Social Media on the whole is meant to keep people angry and posting. But I don’t really think that’s the case. Social Media platforms, on the whole, are like babies.

Everyone likes babies. They’re the most neutral things on the planet, and it’s just like there are no bad dogs, just bad people who train them to be that way.

Facebook can be seen in a bad light, and it often does, but so can everything else when people don’t really understand.

Maybe it’s just me, but I try to see the good in people, regardless of their past, and it’s the same with the internet, it’s simply a tool, and how we use it and what we receive in turns of feedback determines how we continue to perceive it.

I was live the other night on tiktok, as I usually am, and occasionally I get cohost requests from kids, who for the most part are just being kids. True, most of the time I just hope their parents are walking by with a rolled up newspaper so they can get a smack on the upside the back of they head, but I just let them get what they want to say out of the way, most of the time it’s a few low level insults and I don’t react to it (Thank you twitter and COD community for years of emotional brutalization, assholes. :D) and then they disconnect and I simply go on like nothing happened.
And for those wondering, the spread is 99% adults, 0.5% puppets, and 0.5% random kids requesting to go live with me out of random chance. I don’t seek them out, ever.
I forgot where I was going with this, but as long as the person feels like they did a good job, in terms of how they feel using the tools at their disposal to accomplish the job they take on, they should get papa johns pizza.
Haven’t had papa johns pizza in a minute, I usually order from Dominoes, since they’ve got that sweet sweet 5 dollar pizza coupon I take advantage of and it’s pretty cool on that. Anyways, there was this squirrel I saw running across the street a while back, and I just forgot about it until this point in time, which is okay I guess, anyways, I do free readings on my lives, and it’s kind of bled into everyday things, cause a few people at work have requested them and I’m fine with that, doesn’t happen too often, and it’s been mainly people I’ve hung out with that request them.
I’ve had one or two people be a little concerned about my intent, but I pretty much tell em I just shuffle the deck, read the cards that pop out, and if it connects, it connects. If not, no biggie, it’s just a card game to me anyways. But I can understand on some level both the concern about the supernatural aspects of it as well as the need to get some kind of direction on what to do. I don’t take it to the level of fake readers where they simply spout off some rainbow out the ass, sunshine screaming from the nostrils, disney song and dance routine out the crotch, blow smoke out the nipples romance thing, I just read the cards to them and give it to them straight.
I still keep strong in my faith, still read the bible, and still contemplate what it actually is my purpose in life really is. Sometimes I feel like I’m a magnet for broken people just looking for some level of connection, those that seemingly isolate themselves, who feel sometimes out of place in some level, someone to identify with, maybe that’s my purpose, why I chose “The Doctor” as my nickname as a Learning Ambassador….
Maybe that’s why she’s holding on so tightly, despite our true time together having ended long ago… Anyways, the years 2018 to 2021… have been an experience for me. I’ve had to put a lot of things and people behind me, and accept things that I never thought I’d have to both about myself and about those I thought were my friends.

I realize that a vast majority of people I met at LGB8 won’t really think about me too much, that’s fine, after all, time marches forward, we meet new people and move on with life, and I have a difficult time letting go of people as well, and I’ve had to do that with folks that I had developed deep connections with, and had great conversations, and through these people, and they know who they are, I realized that I, and they, are merely a temporary presence in each others lives, we are meant to be stepping stones in our journeys of personal growth and become stronger for it.

I have been taught some hard lessons, and have had to make huge sacrifices, and some choices that can never be undone.
I have learned that, and this lesson comes from the Gavin side of the family, harsh but true, unless you add value to yourself, no one will ever want you to be in their lives, because they will have no reason to aspire to be as happy as you are, or happier. If you have little in terms of wealth or material possessions, you have little to no value in the eyes of society. It is only through the acquiring of such things can you ever be a part of a group. Those that cannot acquire said wealth or property or make progress in their own lives on their own to the satisfaction of others are to be abandoned by the wayside and forgotten about.
My Dad didn’t teach me that, my mom neither, it’s just been my personal experience growing up with a crippling sense of dread at the fear of rejection that has taught me this, that and because of what I’ve posted in the past, that those who try to crave their own path and believe what they will instead of following the lead of others will to be cast aside.
I have had to overcome a lot of things to get to this point of comfort with myself, and the thought of going back to that level of negative self talk is absolutely not worth it. It was that level of thinking and isolation, and dealing with those who’d think less of me that forged me into the hard worker I am today, I had to go through basic training at Great Lakes to forcibly break myself so that I could figure out what wasn’t working and what was to get here.

Did it have some damage left over? yes. But am I much better person than I was back then? Of course.
My time with Amazon further enforced what I taught myself, that I am inherently valuable to myself, and through my self evaluation and sense of self worth, I could better be of service to others. Through that hard work and that urge to be better, I have made a few true friends and a few people that still require my help till they find the next step in their lives.

I have loved fiercely and truer then I ever have, and I will never regret knowing them because of those results. I have learned to say no, to reject that which doesn’t work for me, and to stand up for myself.

I am looking forward to what 2022 brings, and where I go from here, we only live once, and love many times, it is only through expression of our passion and love that we can truly appreciate the gifts that others have brought into our lives. Harsh lessons and uncomfortable truths are what fire the steel of our souls so that we may better forge ahead and steel ourselves for the wrought iron the world will throw at us.

Are those smithing puns doing anything for you?
Happy New Years, much Love to everyone, friends past, present and future, near and far, known and unknown, and lest you forget, I love you all.
And no, I am not depressed, I just don’t post that often, get distracted by shiny things, and have a weird sleep schedule.

When is the next Dorikame Book coming out? honestly don’t know.

When is my next album coming out and will I half ass it? Soon, and maybe.

Am I single or taken or engaged? That will be revealed.

Am I happy? Are these sarcastic answers answering the question you want answered?
Will I do a reading series for FB? LOL…. I dunno…

Do I still have feelings for her? Men never fall out of love, we really do not, I don’t think there’s a person alive who can truly say that they’ve run out of love for another person. All we can do is wish them happiness and luck in whatever they choose to do with their life. Love is love after all.

Welcome to 2020, I’m your host, Dan Rather!

I talk about things, work, friends, projects, that kind of thing. Your kind of thing!

Holy shit, if he does NOT make that joke, I’m going to be so pissed.
So, how was your New years? Like mine, uneventful, kinda like the rest of the holidays, but I do have some slight changes to the usual programming. Annnnd that’s right… I keep forgetting that I have this thing, and rather than use  this  platform ot vent my various complaints and or treasures, I choose to instead post pointlessly bad videos and tweets that go unnoticed for a while and now I’m sad.
But, not anymore, thanks to the power of Arabian fucking coffee.
Yup.
It’s gon’ be like that today.
Anyways, I’ve been working my as off at amazon and aside from the ride situation changing for the better, apparrently, I now have a group I hang out with, well, I’ve got several groups I hang out with, but one more consistantly than the others. The weird thingis, I dunno how it all, oh wait- Yes, yes I do.
Think it might’ve been during that wonky period of time where I’m just extra flirty or something, happens every once in a while. But I just told this one gal, V, that I didn’t know what it was about her, but I liked her. And it’s true. There’s something about her I can’t put my finger on, but it’s there.
Anyways, I think I met her friend, A, first, and we had a quick conversation about something or other, then after shift, I talked her V, and then after that I introduced myself to I.
Weird thing is, thanks to I’s  wanting to hang out after shift, I now have a group of peeps That I hang out with after shift. Which is refreshing, but at the same time a bit worrying. Now, don’t get me wrong, these women are fucking amazing, and I’m really thankful I’m friends with them.
Just old paranoias and what not.
The reason I flit from group to group has something to do with a fear of rejection if interest in a gal is expressed, and then it just becomes slightly awkward, so I subconsciously fade away for a few weeks to let things cool day and act as if it’s just normal.
It’s the built up anxiety of repeated rejections and the knowledge and slight annoyance that that’s just going to be a part of things. And I really love working for Amazon.
But it really is a small town unto itself, so there is lies the problem, or, I don’t think it’s a problem, just something I’m slowly but surely pushing through.
2020 is going to be a new year, I’m no longer attached to Ashley, though the memories are bittersweet, they are slowly fading into the hazy fog that is the past.
Though I don’t believe I’m ready for dating, my subconscious has other ideas, and I’ve been noticing slight changes in my behaviour that supports that theory.
At the same time, I really do need to have some kind of social life, so if hanging out with friends after work is the way to do that, who am I to complain?
Besides, love is love, though it might be unreliable, love always finds a way. And just like every Jurassic Park movie, love is the T-Rex that will fuck yo sadness up in terrifying and hilarious ways.
Well, might as well dive into this. Or not, I’m still trying to sort everything out myself, but I think my problem is I over think things, and sometimes, I just need to dive into the deep end, and say “Fuck logic, I will enjoy mustard and toast at the same time!” Or maybe that’s my subconscious way of trying to deflect from the realization I might just have feelings for someone, and I’m slowly ramping up to asking them out.
The weird part is that it won’t be over a dating app. Which is just a fucking thing of its own.

That aside, I’ve started working on weird little pipe cleaner figures I like to call Piplaeners, why? Well… I don’t know why, but there awesome, and I’m slowly world building with every one that I create. Let’s see if I can pull a few up.80831662_471927350176422_7036172946527748096_n80900903_834241123681085_7729425855453069312_n80811702_2546410082263326_6814933365725069312_n80697408_3717571861618355_8067890323717619712_n80272528_590025335152853_5579368598624796672_n80357608_2566402456747613_7203153398026207232_n

I really like making these. They honestly don’t take that long to make and I’ve gotten down to a science, but so far, I’ve got the Golden King, The Red Queen, the Cursed Prince, the Queens Guard, and Dequadra.
Haven’t figured that one out yet. And it’s my newest work too! I’m also working on a massive one and I’m still planning out, and with every Piplaener made, I discover new ways of making them sturdier, I might actually have something going here!
Kind of exciting when you think about it!

Youtube’s still a thing, and I’ve now got a podcast going, which, I should really get cracking on the next episode, god I’m so bad at procrastinating…

OH MY FUCKING GOD

I was thinking about the grand scope of the universe and why it was the squirrels get the best stick in life, like an ACTUAL fucking stick, I mean, if it were an actual FUCKING STICK that’d be questionable, because then you’d see sweet old ladies screaming for their lives with bags of broken crackers, all the while a fuck ton of squirrels with oddly bloody twigs would be chasing her, and you KNOW shit’s about to go down when you see that kind of bullshit happen.

I once saw an octopus. No reason really, it was just there, and I was having the time of my life just looking at this fucking thing, and I was like, “Hey, octopus.” And the thing did say a word, because it has an ass mouth. That’s right, you heard, Octopi have ass mouths, they can be masters of talking shit, because of their ass mouths, and there’s nothing you or I can really do about it.

There’s such a thing as redundant torture, where you do something utterly inane to someone else over a large or short period of time, and they’ll finally be all, “Hey, what the fuck.” All calm like, but you know deep down they’re sad.
Or… something, I don’t fucking know.

Maybe we’re all just in a simulation and the robots are the real players here, because that’d be absolutely amazing, if ready player one wasn’t about the time space-continuum because a vacation inditing the mass roach riot of 20:14 military time, because I like fucking with people’s perception of things every now and then. It’s just a thing I do, you know how I know? Because you aren’t me, and even if you were, I’d still be the one writing this fucking thing, so you can’t stop me no matter who you are!
Yes, I ripped that from Ace venture, which is honestly my favorite movie of all time.

I don’t wonder why time traveling eggs don’t time travel, they’d be too chicken by the end of it. Ha.

Dumb jokes for smart people include:
1. My dating life.
My hair line.
The fact I more famous than a regular potato.
Every knows a regular potota. Or potato.
Fuck pototas. They’ve done nothing for humanity.

Those assholes.
This blog was brought to you by the overwhelming need to fuck around on the interenet and write some weird bullshit that’ll make you question if I’m high or not.
I am 6″5 or six foot five inches. Why does my jaw feel like a peice of toast ready to pop the fuck out of a toaster? Oh yeah, gravity. I keep forgetting that’s a thing.
Kinda like Brangolina. Or Bracheal.
Or Bennigan’s.

Can I tell you something?

I’m shy.
I know, I know… Let it sink in.
I’m normally a talkative person, at least, I was a talkative person, then I had the accident, and… well, everything kind of shifted perspective.
Everything except one aspect of my life.
Writing, it’s been the one thing I can always come back to in case anything ever falls apart of if I need to vent, because off the internet, I don’t feel very powerful.
Even on the internet, I’m not some kind of Demiinfluencer, or star, or anything like that. I’m just me.
All I have are my stories to occupy my time with, and that’s it.
Seriously.
I used to think that all I needed was a bit of luck and persistance and things would work themselves out and for a long time, that’s exactly how I thought, I’m not exactly proud of the results, but I can say that for whatever reason, I have the skillset I do, because I persisted in writing.
Maybe it’s because I have a from of control over whatever happens, or lack of control if I get too deep into the story itself?
Or maybe it’s a god complex?
You know, where you can make or break anything with a few simple keystrokes?
Authors complex, or something, outside of writing, I’m just me.
And, through a lot of self reflection, a bunch of accidents, relationships, a fuck ton of sex, and more than one time where I’ve gotten blackout drunk, or been roofied, I’ve gotten to where I am… Whereever that is.
I’ve got a lot of victories on the board, but for some reason, they don’t feel like victories, they feel like just another day, another step forward, another clank of the gears in the great clockwork of the universe.
I mean, I feel appreciated at work, and sometimes at home, and for a while, I used to feel appreciated on the internet, and in some cases I still do.

Maybe I just want someone to love now a days.
Yeah, I think that’s it.
I need someone to love, someone to come home to and talk about my day and not feel like I’m about to be over taken by some inconsequential thing.
I thought I had that with Caasi, Ashley, and Sarah, and Amy.
Amy was a sweet woman, still is. Just… I wish things had worked out with her, I was actually making real progress with her, and… I just took too long.

There it is, the thing that’s bothering me.
Things taking too long. Maybe patience, or being too patient is the problem? I need to act, need to make impulsive, but smart, decisions! I need to get out there and make short work of supposedly long decisions! I need to put myself out i nthe sun and learn to live with whatever ashes it makes of me!
But… I’m too cautious.
Ever since the accident.

Ever since the accident, survival is the only thing that matters, everything else, including finding love, is secondary…
Kinda sad.

I’ve got nothing except love.

For some reason I always get weird when talking about love, not in the sense that it becomes perverted self inflation of how ginormous my dick is, because… that would be a gross use of power, also, physiologically, every large dicked man has a constant fear of having a heart attack caused by getting aroused, look it up, straight up fact.
Speaking of big dicks, the dude with the largest dong measures in at two fucking feet.
My question:
Does he go to Hentai cons? because people would fucking love that shit.

Anyways, today is one of the random, “Meh, I knock one out” days, I’m not active enough to garner new followers, but just active enough to keep the ones I have, and honestly, I don’t check the numbers anymore. Why? I don’t care about them, if I continually check the numbers to see how I’m doing, then I fuck myself with anxiety, and I don’t need that shit in my life again.
I get it now, when people say they turn off social media and what not, they try not to focus too much on it, because that’s just how shit is, you live, you learn, you get excited about nothing in particular, and then you move the fuck on.
I wish for the love of god it were that easy with me.
I kind of hate all my socials with a average sized dick passion. Yes, we’re floating back to that shit, because why the fuck not?
Anyways, to make matters interesting, works been going good, this MET is kicking my ass something fierce, but I’m sticking with it, with the knowledge and passion knowing that sometime in October, I’ll get converted, and with any luck, won’t have a ride situation that’s not going to fuck me out of 600 fucking dollars a fucking month just to get two and from work.
Look, I get it, you got out before they got you out, and you’ve got bills and shit to take care of, but how the fuck come I’ve got to be the one to do that, when clearly, you’ve got the scratch to do that on your own. Fuck, if I’m paying you 600 a month for rides to work and back, that I might as well move in with you, because that right the fuck there is rent levels of money and Jesus fucking Christ.
But at the same time, they’re my friend, and “Do the right thing” is ringing in my head. But momma didn’t raise no sucker, and I know when I’m getting fucked over, friendship or not.
And even when they get back in, it’s still gonna cost me 200 a week to get a ride with them, even when they’ve got their own money coming back in? Citing, gas, oil change, tires, blah blah blah when the fuck did I become responsible for MORE then just gas? Yes, the wear and tear and all that, but at the same time, at the end of each month, after taxes, rent, and gas, I’m essentially getting paid HALF of what everyone else’s is getting to take home. And I’m back to 900 a month instead of 2200 a month, so this is my main fucking gripe right there.

Yeah, we’re friends through thick and thin, but the moment you’re back at work is the moment I’m finding a better ride situation.

Work related stuff… So, yeah.

for two reasons this is going to suck, this first being I’ve got a blister on my middle finger, which ironically enough, is a big “Fuck you!” to myself while I attempt to write this. The other, simply put, is that I don’t update this enough.

Work is going fine, though people are getting antsy about conversions, with Inbound getting the first picks, the newest guys having priority, and time moving forward for those almost dangerously close to not making  the guidelines for conversions, it’s easy to see why.
Myself?
Meh, I figure I’d just not get excited over it just yet, I just need to keep check my email to see what’s going on, and even then, I know  that it’s just a matter of time. I have 0.5 points, no write ups, my rates been great, and I have a good report with nearly everyone at work. So, maybe I’m good?
Fuck it, I am.
Everything that’s been told to me so far, we’re in the running for it, so why bother worrying about a thing in the fog you can’t see? Seriously, until the thing is right in front of you, and you can see it’s a thing, no need to worry, just keep on keeping on!

The last couple of shifts have been pretty interesting, I’ve been shadowed by one of the week 1’s, Gilbert, a former Chef for 20 years. Gil is fucking amazing, quick learner, pick’s up on thing’s fast, is a bad ass motherfucker on all accounts, and pretty much the shit now that I’ve trained him in the art of WaterSpidering. He and I get along great, and we’ve got a wavelength going on, every once in a while I’ll pop him a tip or two, but the man’s intelligent, he’s not a kid, so I treat him like a man, and we’re both better off for it.
I’m kind of thankful that he was assigned as my shadow, I can get kind of lonely WaterSpidering, so these passed few days have been a blessing in disguise, you know?

Anyways, I’ll talk with Y’all later, just wanted to keep things rolling with this. Spend nearly 100 on a blog, damned well be using the fucking thing, am i right?

Fuck, I’m so god damned sore.

I’m back, I guess. Okay, so fuck it, I am back, but for good fucking reason! I’m fucking sore as fuck because they need their fav water spider to collect all the shit, do all the things, and basically be the annoying as fuck voice of “WAKE UP!” because these ten hour shifts?
Oh my god, let me tell you about these fucking ten hour shifts OH MY FUCKING GOD I CAN BARELY GET A POST OUT WITHOUT GETTING FUCKING DISTRACTED BY SOME ANNOYING AS SHIT THING!

But let’s head back to then ice, friendly neighborhood of what the actual fuck.
So, I’ve got no problem helping out where I’m needed, I knock out the rate for the week, I’ am beautiful to help out where I’m needed, go do the things, knock everything out, but yesterday!?
Yester-fucking-day?
There were just four of us. Fucking four.
And one of us had to get audited, or something like that, so it’s all good.
But, holy shit.
We needed that woman, to help ease our burdens, I mean, yeah, three of us knocked that shit out like no tomorrow, and we did get a lot of things done, but it seemed every five minutes we were switching between Down Stack, Tetris, tote Inject, Work Inject, ATAC sweeping, Prep sweeping, Tote boosting, and everything else, and after hour 6 I was just waiting for the damned thing to go balls up!

I ain’t mad, just how I write, and it was a bit stressful you know? But, with my friends, Co-Workers, and a shit ton of caffeine, I knocked the day out and repeatedly kicked it in the balls. I woke up, so woke, and so fucking sore, holy fucking shit, I wished to fucking god, they just let me receive that day, because I was in so much pain from the last two hours of it all, I mean, four lines went into AGL, and god damned, people needed to work the fuck faster, I get it, y’like to talk, talking’s great, but at the same time, the reason we went into AGL in the first place is because there were people there who simply just did not give a shit, or were picking only the good boxes!

Like, really?
Fucking really?
I’m out there, busting my ass, taking every single fucking box that passes by my station, and you, like a fuck nut, need to next level cherry pick that shit? What the utter fuck!
I had this one gal, tiny, adorable, and … just the sweetest thing ever, tell me to get her a golden tape wrapped box, and I’m in the middle of making sure the damned line gets some fucking space on it, I’m thinking fuck no, get back to work, let me do my thing!
But, I’m not a dick, so I did the perfectly balanced, I simply moved the box to a place on the line that wasn’t so crowded.
I mean, someone else got the box, of course, and her friend was laughing her ass off, but I had work to do, so I did it. If I’m working, I’m focused on that work only. I don’t take shit from no one, and if there’s a perfectly great reason why you want to do things a certain way, I am more than happy to let you do your day, but let me know and I’ll make sure that you do your thing, that way, both our days are amazing.

Outside of that, I had a pretty standard day, got a lot of work done, stayed focus, talked to people when the work flow was a little low, but over all, I stayed busy. Today’s the final boss of the week, so I’ve got to make double my usual mix, I’m getting better at saving my money, and I’ve set a budget for myself, so I’m getting enough together for a deposit, which has been a bit hard, but I’m knocking it out, still need to find a decent place, and save up about four more weeks, so 550/week, that’s about 1,600 to 2,100, enough for the deposit, and a buffer zone for other expenses as well. So that’s the goal… 2,100 in the account. If I can save up that much, I’ll be golden, and won’t have to worry about much.

Well, that’s enough from me, despite how everything reads, I’m having a lot of fun during this mini-peak, and Prime Day is popping around the corner, so it’s good practice for when things heat up again, I’ll just be happy to have my Sundays back… dear god, I’m so fucking tired…. But, hopefully, when I’ve got my own place, I’ll be happy as shit, and be able to post vids again without hesitation…

It’s been a minute or two, hasn’t it?

So, let’s dial back the weird as fuck shit for a second and talk about what’s going on in my neck of the woods, why?
because obviously, what’s happening with me is INFINITELY MORE ENTERTAINING THAN WHATEVER WEIRD BULLSHIT I KEEP COMING UP WITH.

That was way too many Caps in the sentence, I seriously only meant to have the infinitely in caps and nothing else.
Okay, so I’ve been working the night shift at Amazon again, which is AMAZING, because for the first time, I’m not completely screwing the pooch, my rates up, I’m regularly talking to hot chicks with no intention flirting with them (kay, I lied, maybe a little. Come on, they’re hot chicks!), I made friends with a Little Person, and he is AWESOME, and almost everyday, EVERYDAY, there’s been a shortage of work because of how great both Day and Night shifts been.

But therein lies the problem, Amazon keeps hiring on new people, despite the lack of work… So does this mean we’re looking at another Mass Hire/Fire situation, where after a few months, they’re going to let us go? hopefully not, took me long enough to snag this one again.

The reason I’m asking, is because there was a strange announcement at stand up, part of one of the programs they’ve got set up, to transfer to other locations, and I’m starting to understand why now, but at the same time, I’m not going to worry about it. Or should I?

With the increasingly apparent lack of work coming in, and more early leaving times, maybe we’re doing our jobs too well? Or is it that there’s going to be a new Cross dock location opening up soon, so more work is being sent over there and we’re being left with the overflow? I dunno, but it is a bit worrying to say the least. And I’m just spinning my wheels here on the subject, there could be a whole bunch of things I could be getting wrong here…

Anyways, nuff about that!

What else is happening?
Oh, right!
For about a week or so, my brain’s been stuck on the idea that fish are naked.
And they are.
But, my best bud Blake pointed out they aren’t.
Know why?

They’re dressed to the gills!

I know, completely stupid, but it’s the best connection i’ve made, but really. Fish are naked.
also preordered MK 11, I’m not great at fighting games, but I’ve been wanting to play Mortal Kombat again for some time, and 11 seems like a pretty good jumping point. There are a few characters that are Rushers, Zoners, and just plain Combo machines, so it’ll be cool to fuck around in practice mode to try and knock something out. 
I still haven’t finished Skyrim, I think I’m nearing the end of the main story, which is great, since in each Bethesda free roam game, I manage to kill off nearly all the not needed NPCs in the first go around, find the exploits, become suped up, and go on a in game murder spree the likes THAT instance of the game universe has never seen.
Smash Brothers still has my attention, mainly for the multiplayer aspect.
Splatoon 2 simply got boring.
Brawlhala has its moments.
I don’t bother with Onigiri anymore. Soon as it got to the “O NOEZ ANIME GIRL IN TROUBLE!” Trope, I stopped playing. I dunno know I’ve got trouble getting passed the whole “Strong Female Protagonist” thing, I personally think it’s great. Maybe it’s just a displacement of the previously natural story telling gender roles? where the male was the strong one, the female was the smart one, and the villains were just dumb asses with too much time on their hands and not enough porn?
Shit, I think that’s what Evil’s problem is just in general.
They can’t get laid, i mean, sex solves all the worlds problems, if just temporarily.
But, I’ve noticed the change myself in my own editing of Sogno Della Dinastia, with Divertenti Della Amuleto focusing on the female main character, I kind of have to make that shit work out, and so far, it’s doing a pretty good job of it.

speaking of writing, and snapping back to work, whenever there’s been a lag of work and I’ve had some time, a pen, and some scrap of paper laying around, I’ve drawn a quick picture, and started scribbling notes on it like a madman. Story plotting is kind of relaxing, breaking away from just standing there, feels like I’m recharging my batteries or something of the like.
So far, I’ve knocked of two of the little darlings:
”Azmael and the Chest of the Forever Coaled”
”Felix Hogbuny goes on Vacay”

Fun little exorcises.
Lets see, what else?

Oh, right, mah carpool buds, Paul, Joseph, and John.
Paul I’ve known for a while since Peak ‘18, great guy, passionate about work, we connect amazingly. Paul’s also a Gamer, which is awesome, since I like gaming too, and we sometimes talking about gaming. Yes, that was a dumb sentence. No, I’m not erasing it. Yes, you’re stuck with it. He’s got an amazing family, and really, that’s all I’m saying on that front.
Joseph? Also a great guy, has a faster sense of humor, good taste in music, likes to ask me random questions, and overall, he’s got a lot going for him! He too, Kicks the ass at work. That was worded weirdly. Joseph is… hard to explain exactly. He’s super intelligent, and I think it might be the super coffee wearing off at this point, but, yep, super intelligent. We all work well together, yeah, definitely the coffee wearing off.
John? Super chill guy, doesn’t say much, but doesn’t really need to when at work or when it’s just us carpooling. When the Turtles are carpooling? different story all together, the dude quips amazingly. We get along amazingly, and i’m going to have to write more about the other two just to give them all equal page time…
I call us the Turtles because we each encompass a different personality type.
Paul’s definitely Leonardo.
Joseph’s Donatello.
John’s Raph, he’s got a little bit of fire in him.
And I’m Michelangelo. Why? Mikey’s been my favorite. Also, I’m writing the post, so I’m Mikey.

Whatelse? Nothing of note, just been doing my own thing… Yes, I’m cutting this short.
Why?
The super coffee is wearing off, and I’m kind of getting bored of writing the post, plus, I’m hungry. Oh, so fucking hungry for breakfast. Not to mention, the more I write, the more I’ll have to edit. Peace!
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Impermanence: With the pull of a trigger

I normally don’t do scripted videos anymore, I like to be unfocused, let my mind wander. But for some reason, I can’t let this one go.
Too many dead.
Too much anger.
Too much is too much.
I’ve written scripts for videos on Mass shootings before, with the clear sight on anger, or confusion, or wondering just what the fuck is actually going on, and most of the time, it started off with anger, and then popped into a kind of cooled down rage.
Friday, Brenton Tarrant, Australian, and a former Gym Teacher who felt lost with the ideology instilled in him by his parents and society at large, who then went from place to place, trying to find something, anything that would fill his spiritual and ideological needs, went from bad to worse and finally landed on the White Nationalist ideology, and then took it one step further.
He planned a massacre with two other men and one woman.
Before he went about his merry fucked up way, Brenton wrote an 87-page manifesto filled with intolerance, hatred, and plain old racism, with phrasing in tune with ISIS, referencing Donald Trump, and calling for people to Subscribe to Pewdiepie for maximum damage beyond the scope of what a pulled trigger could do.
He carried it out, shooting and killing 50 Muslims worshipping at two mosques in Christchurch and another in New Zealand, and wounding twenty others as well, live streaming the whole 17-minute debacle through a streaming service, posting it on 8chan, and from there, the footage just spread like wild fire.
Please know that I fucking hate Brenton Tarrant, and any other person like him, someone who has lost their damned fucking mind, unsatisfied with their life, and clearly out of their damned mind. Someone who feels they need to take the lives of others in order for their own life, in their mind, to have any kind of worth.
New Zealand had been, until recently, inoculated from mass shooters because of its relatively small size and because it happens to be an island nation, yes, I know, but for simplicity sake, I’m calling it a island nation.
My focus and the effects of coffee don’t last as long as they used it.
Never the less, the response has been amazing.
Not long after the shooting, footage cropped up of New Zealand law enforcements beating the utter fuck out of Brenton, as all Law enforcement has the right to do to Mass shooters. At least, in my opinion.
Look, this isn’t easy for me to write, let alone keep my focus on, but I will say this, I’m not going to be one of those people who think that by not saying the person’s name or talking about it, you’re going to make the problem go away.
Know what that’s called? Digging your head in the sand.
Being a fucking Ostrich.
Don’t be a fucking Ostrich
Talk about the issue, talk about what the utter fuck is on your mind, stop hiding your opinion because that’s what the shooters want, if you stop talking about it, stop communicating, then how will we learn how to prepare?
I’m not one to be ashamed of my words, well, not anymore, when I state the following:
These past twelve years, in the scope of the sheer number of shootings, have been fucking horrific. Kids, teens, adults, men, women, old, young, civilian, former military, I mean, will it ever end?
The short answer is, no.
Not until we go the drastic route is making and slow and horrifying example out of the next one. I won’t go into detail, but dear god I REALLY want to.
Fuck it, let’s do this shit.
I think, we should televise the execution of the shooter, not in the classic way, not by the merciful bullet to the head or lethal injection, no, no, no, no, nooooo my friends. I think we should sit them down, and ask them one simple question:
We’re they able to get away with it, using whatever tools they had made available to them, and let them take as much time as they wanted to take their targets apart, what would they do, how would they go about it, how long would they take to get it done?
And how they responded?
Do the exact same thing to them, as per their own disgusting instructions.
Take them apart, piece by piece, as if the executioner was a mechanic, disassembling a car down its very bolts. Happen upon them what they would happen upon their targets.
Televise that shit, make it the only thing on.
Force people to watch.
Send the message that those who commit such acts on innocent lives will be dealt with in the same fashion, and their last words of disgusting intent be the words of their own undoing, and their last words will be of their own screams being cut short by the final merciful act of slowly, ever so slowly twisting their heads till they screamed like rabbits being prepped for the pot, their cries for mercy and understanding falling on deaf ears as their victims cries for mercy fell deaf upon theirs.
Tell them, in their final moment, that loved ones will not greet them, nor god, nor the devil. That their minds shall simply cease to be, their brains will shut down, and everything they ever knew will be nothing. Their body will lie, cold and in the dirt to be feasted upon and turned to compost by insects, and eventually all record of who they were shall be erased.
Whatever impact they held in life, will weigh as nothing in death.
The point being, and needing to move on to the next point of interest here, is that idiots are going to be idiots. That seems like a watered-down version of the thing I want to know, and knowing me, I’m going to say it somewhere else, but we need to do something about the chaotically unwinding clock spring of the collective Human Psyche. It’s snapped, and it aint stopping, yes, it’s slowed down some, and yes, Donald trump with his brand of crazy is absorbing the majority of the blows from this thing, but we need to figure out a way of stopping it completely.
The usual news cycle is going to play out, that Brenton’s a white nationalist, something broke in his head, thoughts and prayers are going to be flung out from across the world, and HOPEFULLY New Zealand makes good on its promise to change its gun laws, and from there, things will go the route they usually do.
Sad, but true.
And I don’t write those words easily.
I write them, knowing full well that lives were lost, families torn apart, sons and daughters will grow up never hearing their father and or mothers’ voices again, mothers and or fathers, brothers and or sisters, husbands and or wives will continue living on with a great hole in their lives where there was once comfort and joy.
We need to do better.
All of us.
In whatever capacity we can.
We need leaders that aren’t afraid of insulting their base when a tragedy strikes.
We need condemnation of Nazis.

All that we are.
All that we were.
All that we will ever be.
Within 200 years after our initial passing, everyone connected to us, all our works, all stories of our descendants, will be as nothing. Simply dust in the wind.
Data never to be viewed again.
Words never to read.
Voices never to be heard.
Within 200 years, if we’re lucky, and we’ve lived a life worth living, we will be remembered for that one spark of ingenuity that made us memorable.
All other details? Gone, until rediscovered.
If it sounds like I’m sucking the philosophical dick right now, that’s because I am. The Mosque shootings have gotten me thinking about the importance of things, the greater meaning behind it all, it’s kick started something in my mind that won’t let go, no matter how much I want it to.
Back in my twenties, when I was wild, free, not tied down by the twelve ton chains of the truth of life in general, that all actions, all words, all story lines, have been repeated countless times by countless others in one way or another, I had so many different theories about how humanity continued to be.
About how our seemingly infinite variety of facial and body designs, were in fact very limited in scope, and the only difference between you and that other, at least a hundred, at most ten thousand, other people who look almost exactly like you or had the exact same thought, interest, likes, dislikes, fears, and or non-fears like you were limited to that scope, because at our hearts, at our very cores, within that subset of values, we’re simply copies of people that came before us, and they, copies of people who came before them.
Yet, despite our similarities, what we share both mentally and or physically, the ways in which we go about achieving those interests, overcoming those fears, the technology we have access to changes with every cycle.

We are fucking amazing.

And yet, with the simple snapping of a mind, the spiral into the darker parts of the basic, primal, savage, lizard section of the human mind.
With the planning of the deaths of those incorrectly perceived to be threats to our own personal safety.
With the purchasing of weapons capable of carrying out such plans.
With the initiating those plans, aiming of those weapons, and the pulling of the trigger to take out those incorrectly perceived as threats, and the ending of those same lives…
Those copies of humans who came before, at least that particular lineage, for that person, if they do not have kids…
that persons story will end.
A kind of metaphysical, “BEGONE THOT!” moment.
We are only temporary, but the impact, the weight of what we, they, he, or she will have left behind can be felt immensely, as if to say, “Hear our voice echo throughout this mighty chamber, though I may be gone and my life now forfeit, my deeds, my actions, will haunt the ones that have done me wrong. For my soul was cast, not in the name of evil or good, but somewhere in the middle, so as I might choose my own path. Here my actions thunder throughout creation, for my name be but spoken, and judgement will come thundering down upon the that poor soul.”
Impermanence: Temporary.

How will you make your impact on history last eternal?

Ball is life, but ball should not be life.

Just remember:
Ball is Life.
But, Ball should not BE Life.

What is the ball in your life?
The thing that you can’t resist going after when it’s thrown in front of you?
Netflix?
Facebook posts?
Clickbaity videos?
Gaming?
VTO?
Sex?
We all have a ball in our life, and much like the retriever, we can’t help but go after it, but at what point does it stop being just “Fetching the ball” and more letting the ball fetch us?
I struggled with this for a long time, and much like the dog playing fetch, I went after gaming like a madman, I’d spend days just playing the same game to death until I either got a new one or finished that one.
“Ball is life” isn’t just a meme to some people, it’s an addiction, a thing they can’t help not separating themselves from, merely because it’s thrown in front on them.
One of the many balls I’ve become resistant to fetching is gaming. Right now, I’ve my Switch right next to me in it’s dock, just sitting there. I know that I could be playing it right now, enjoying some time in either Smash Brothers Ultimate or Fortnite (fun game BTW) but really, I know that getting some game time in wouldn’t really be productive to my time. I’ve got a blog to run, and maybe sometime in the future,getting back to writing Sogno Della Dinastia.
What’s the Ball in your life?

Another “Ball is Life” story.
I’m a youtuber, and I used to upload Videos every chance I got, we’re talking every half hour, just whip out the phone, record a quick video, post it, and forget about it, lol! And I used to knockout shoutouts every 30 seconds on Vine, Twitter, and the such. That was my Ball, and the shout out requests were the people playing fetch with me.
At some point I realized that I didn’t need to fetch the ball all the time, that I could be a good Doggo just by fetching the Ball well enough to satisfy myself, and let whatever happens happens.
I learned that not everything on my mind needed to be said, or recorded, and for a while it went very much against my own instincts, grating against my own impulsiveness to reach new Subscribers or followers.
Now, working for Amazon, there’s a new, mandatory Ball, getting making over 100 on my rate. i’m still fetching the Ball, but now it’s because i’m getting paid to do it, and this ball? I like fetching it.

But, I’m not going to let the Ball become my life. I want you to know that this post was inspired by a number of people and situations, across a good number of years. That no one thing is the core reason for this post being written.

Just remember:
Ball is Life.
But, Ball should not BE Life.

Oh to thine own soul, I doth speak to thee

I speak a summer’s breeze of creativity, heavy and rife with intellect and naive of the mind’s own maze of batshit craycray.

Preface:
Caffeine was involved.
Copious amounts of caffeine.
No fucks or apologies issued, you knew wtf was going to happen.

Let’s get something straight here, I fucking swear in my posts!
“BUT WHY!?”
And I say to you this, my child:
Because, the human language has over a trillion words in various dialects, each with their own unique needs and wants and kinks, and sometimes, the word ‘Is’ likes to do the butt stuff. Hard butt stuff with mimes dressed as T-rex’s, each armed with fifty dildos and a crosed of broken glass, which MUST BE INSTRUMENTALLY INSERTED INTO THEIR NIPPLES LIKE A CROSS DRESSING FUCK KING!
So, yeah, I swear.
Right now?
right now I’m about to lay some knowledge into your faces heads, and in your mind anus, some infojizz will bloom the might horny person into the wellspring net of yahaolmyspace.com!
So… if you were expecting an intelligent and thoughtful, proviking stance on why longboats needed to be shipped into the email addresses of local midget villages, than you’ve… made a wrong turn somewhere, because here? Here is the MOTHERFUCKING MINDCICLES! Where the contrast between intelligent and ALLMIGHTYWHATTHEFUCK happens just as quickly as a dick stabbing squirrel dressed as a honey bee setting fire to the orphanages of all of Christmas Day!
Plus, straight coffee fucks with my head in magical ways. And yes! Yes my friends, my followers, there will be days where madness spits in your face nipples and your eye feet will run, SCREAMING INTO THE MIDNIGHT FORESTS OF THE DEAD SOUL DEER, AND NOTHING SHALL RETURN!
Except, a higher knowing of what you just read might become the stuff of legend. I say unto thee, I speak for the worms and the wood, and the wood winds, and the woods that break wind, fart and from that fart, know that you shall launch the moon monday penis into the sky clouds and hamper the laundry of the infinite sadness!
Wait, the fuck?
I don’t care about making sense, I just need to write something, anything, something that makes me feel like you follow me so that at one point or another, this Bob ross of a painting of words will somehow inspire your to greater heights. Maybe, somehow, somewhere, the minds that crafted the intranet, the internet, may one day VENTURE TO THE OUTERNET! and holy fuck I’m looking up the OUTERNET as soon as IO finish writing this! Like, fuck me, that’s an awesome idea, the inter, the intra, the outer, the through, the around, and the undernet…. MY GOD, MOTHER OF FUCK LORD’S GOD, WHAT HAVE I INSPIRED!? Nothing? Everything? Possibly something that may make the thought raptor of Seclusiondick 5 turn vegan ONCE MORE AND SOLVE THE DINO-CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS!? Well, that’d be a fucking amazing mashup, wouldn’t it? I mean, to literally be there while a SUPERSTEGO shoots dick beams of ice and fury…. that…. truly would be a FROST JOB!
I’m not going to be serious in the post, I don’t wanna be, there’s no need to be serious in a blog post all the time! Sometimes, you just need to say fuck it with the sanity, and go with the mental flow! After all, if there isn’t a blog post out there that speaks to the psychological inner workings of the mind through abstract constructs, then you’re just wasting the time of both the reader and the writer, for every step we take is another that someone else may one day too take. Maybe you two end up in a foot race of thoughts and ideas, each step taken inspires you further along the road of life, and your souls become synched, tuned, like fine instruments to be played at such a level only those with the finest hearing can truly see where it leads!
And I KNOW for a fact that some people follow me because of the sometimes insane ramblings I post, and others for the intelligent aspect. Or maybe you read because I’m just an interesting guy, I’ll never know, really. I just want to entertain you, like the MIND SLUG SQUIRRELS OF SCOUT TROOP 555- Kidding. Just think of every non sequitur as an idea for a short story, something bottled up and shaken around for a little bit, and finally let loose. I’ve been wanting to get back into writing short stories for a while, get my thoughts out to the world, you know?

MY work schedule just kind of drains me of that, day by day, hour by hour, scan after scan. IT just seems like I’m losing a bit of who I am, and like my man Paul always tells me, “HEY! KNOCK THAT DEPRESSING SHIT OFF!” I just wanted to keep myself pumped, at the same time, I’m just a little bit freaked out by the progress in my life. For the first time in a while, a LONG while, I’m finally at a job where I’m just knocking shit out left and right, where I’m surrounded by thinkers, doers, gamers, and people with a shit ton of experience to draw from.

those who’ve followed my blog for a while, know that I’ve been around the net for a while, that my posts are unfocused, a kind of stream of consciousness kind of dealio, but it’s all good. It just takes a while for me to get to the meat of the issue, and if you’ve read this far, welcome to the format, a thick layer of insane ramblings, and underneath the prospect of learning something deeper about me. Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t build a squirrel launching catapult.
Maybe, I shouldn’t dress the quirrels up in little Evil Kneivel costumes.
Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t aim said catapult in the direction of metro PCS. but this world of ours is full of surprises! and no matter what, we can all agree, that Trump is a fucking moron who’s going to kick off world war 3 by tweet alone.
Because fuck him, that glow in the dark son of a bitch! That fuck nutted shit for brains, used cheeto bag fucking, mushroom dicked, tiny handed, treasonous fuck munch of a human being! That rejected Garbage Pale Kid, that shit for brains ass face, that fucking moron, that diaper fucking ass for face! And yeah, I’m kind going all in, because like I said in the beginning of htis fucking thing, I swear in my blogs, and there are MANY MANY MANY layers to this thing, and sometimes, just sometimes, you don’t need to make sense, or focus on ap articular thing, or just fucking fuck shit up on a literary sense.
Sometimes, you just need to go all in, and as long as the thoughts are pretty much fucking unorganized little traumatized SPIDERS FROM A DEAD CLOWNS BROOM CLOSET, THE WORLD WILL SEEK THE UNDERKING OF THE NONTERNET, SLOOPY MCFARTNUTSACK! The stretchiest of Fartsacks the world has never cared to here.
Fart Sacks. The nuts of the human ass. The biological equiviliant of bending space and time so that the WORLD CAN’T UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL SCREECH CRIES OF THE TERABYTE BASED FLOCKAWAVES! They shall know only SORROW! Like the creeping insect voids of Therserererer Five nine eight! Wellp, whatever sanity this particular post had, has left the building, I mean, it WAS there for a while, and then shit just went left field, right field, pitchers mound, and ran the fucking bases.
Home fucking run.
Wait, I wonder if its possible to fuck and run and the same time?
I mean, seriously, the act is possible, on some level, by the sprints of each act will REQUIRE THE BEES OF A THOUSAND HIVES AND SEVERAL JARS OF JEFF PEANUT BUTTER!
Jeff, because while Mothers like jiff, Jeff has a bitching sports car, also the latest AC/DC Compact disk. Jeff Peanut butter, tastes like blood, motor oil, and getting chicks man!
God damn it Jeff.
Um, what was I going on about? The bee population is shrinking and no one really understands why, maybe Antisex groups are mkaing tiny bee condoms? Like, how does that shit even work? OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO SEARCH UP BEE DICKS. Also, fun fact, the size of Narwhal Penis is determined by the size of their Horn. Ladies, lmao. So the larger the horn, the bigger of the balls, and thaaaaat’s…. fucking disturbing the shit out of me. Not for the normal reasons, but because now?
Now I’m imagining regular bees, with regular narwhal hors, and giant ass testicles. So, there’s a bit of Nightmare fuel. How do Narwhals jack off? By slamming their horns into rocks or something? I mean, that make sense if you think about it… And you’re thinking about it.

More intelligent than a dumb ass next to a switch

I walk in, do my thing, go to the sink to wash my hands, and the dude slides out like he’s Kramer from Seinfeld, like, “HEY YA JERRY! I’VE GOTTA TELL YA SOMETHING!”

Yeah, I fucking swear, UHMAHGAWD leave me alone~ Or some other weird bullshit like that, I dunno, maybe I do? Either way, we’s gon’ get drunk annnnnnnnnd blog. About random bullshit, I like mac n cheese, but not the kind of mac n cheese that’s mac n cheese. I’m fucking hipster like that, or not, fuck those idiots that claim to like things BEFORE they were cool. And Yeah, I know, old gripe, but can we PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD, make the other days of the week food related? We’ve already got Taco Tuesday.
So let’s have Menudo Monday, Waldorf Salad Wednesday, Turkey Thursday, Fuckfoods Friday, you know? food that you eat after you have a good fuck, like shit you REALLY want to eat right after sex, I’m talking the kind of food that you just want to chow down on right after you get done chowing down on. Me?
Personally? A bowl of fucking lucky charms! Like, fuck yeah!
They’re magically delicious because SO AM I DAMMIT!
It’s all good. My cat is proving once again, that they do indeed rule the universe, because while i’m writing this, she’s doing everything in her power to role on my keyboard. So, every sentence is like a battle of wills between my wanting to knock out a post, and her wanting me to pet her. MOTHERFUCKER, I AM A GOD DAMNED BLOGGER, let me do this shit. I’ll give you scratchings behind the ears later.
Like a goddamn boss.

I’ve been working for Amazon for what seems like forever now, and I’m getting used to the flow of the same damned thing almost everyday, there’s there far away prospect of getting Blue Badged, at least, it seems like a far away prospect, in truth I’m not really sure when they’ll offer, but there are constant whispers of it up and down the lines, in the break room, and pretty much in the one bathroom stall that’s always occupied by the same guy.
No fucking joke.
Every single day, same stall, same guy.
I walk in, do my thing, go to the sink to wash my hands, and the dude slides out like he’s Kramer from Seinfeld, like, “HEY YA JERRY! I’VE GOTTA TELL YA SOMETHING!”
Funniest damned thing since it’s usually a PA, KBS, or AM, depending on the day, and what they felt like doing at the time. There’s two times where they have the departments gather called stand up, and it’s not that interesting, basically it goes:
1. People gather around.
2. Stretching.
3. any tips from the audience, (I usually get ignored, no matter how loud I am.)
4. Who to give props to. (also get ignored)
5. The mad rush to get to a station.

During any one of these portions, people are always talking, and the PA’s can BARELY be heard on the speaker system they’ve got set up, it’s the weirdest fucking feeling in the world. SEPS was the same way, only except people were fucked to speak during inspections. I almost kind of want Stand Up to be like inspections, just a little.

The job, love it, love everything about it. Made a few friends there, one of my best friends from work is also my ride, and lately, what we’ve been doing is going to a different place everyday. Sometimes the food’s great, sometimes it’s a bit lacking, but we try every place we can, and make the mad rush to get to work afterwards. Which is a treat in and of itself.
Because let it be known that there are fucking idiots on the road, who will drive twenty three fucking miles, with a god damned traffic cone stuck to the under carriage of their car, and it’s the funniest god damned thing in the world, like a car based unicorn with day glow viagra, it’s a god damned rarity.
Also a treat is the driver trying to constantly pass us if we’re going the speed limit and the dumb ass’s girlfriend starts taking a picture of the car? OH my fucking god, it’s… great!
Cause I flipped that dumbass off, and I’m kind of wondering what they were trying to get a picture of. But so far, so good, nothing new to report. We’re alos gaming buddies on the switch, which reminds me to snag Splatoon 2.

Intelligent Title for a dumb fucking post.

Now that we’ve cleared up the intent of this thing, let’s make one thing perfectly clear, I’m a dumbass, and you’re a dumbass. By which I mean, there are things about which we know plenty, things in which we know not so much, and things in which we know absolutely nothing at all.
It’s all right, there’s nothing wrong with that, especially since 95% of our knowledge base comes from shouty, day glow traffic cones pretending to be something they aren’t. Fuck you donald Trump.
That being said, it’s been a minute, I’ve not found any time to make a quick post, or put some serious thought into what I’d like to talk about. And drunk blogging is out of the question as well, since no matter what, the quality of my works is just going to be crap when drunk blogging. There’s literally nothing of quality in those things. And I think I ACTUALLY included them in the book I … Don’t think I published. there was a shit ton of work put into the book, and for some fucking reason, it just up and vanished on me. Along with several hundred other little projects i had going on at one point or another.
I dunno, sometimes I think having a job is the greatest thing in the world, because money, and being able to afford things, and other times, I’m like, great, this shit again. because as hard as I work? I can never seem to get ahead, like, it’s the strangest thing in the world. Last week I was at a 104% rate, which was great, but my dailys are sucking ass, 95,81, 84, nothing above a hundred unless I’m caffeinated out of my fucking gourd and just completely in my Zen state of being… kind of frustrating. But it ALWAYS comes down to numbers, not the struggles, not the advancements, not anything.
“If you don’t make those numbers, just going to be one of those days!”
The bottom line is always more important than the needs of the individual, which is kind of sad when you get down to it, but at the same time, one of the tips that I learned from a PA, was to not let this job define who you are.
But it’s kind of hard to do when you don’t know who you were to begin with. Or maybe it’s just the motion of it all, the way things could and often do change at any point in time, and you just have to go with the flow, which is a mentality that I’ve adopted many times over the course of my life!
I got distracted and forgot what the fuck I was writing about, I know that to you, it’s just a millisecond between paragraphs, but I’ve spent the better part of ten minutes trying to dry my hands and figure out why my hands still kind of felt like crap. I don’t know why, maybe it’s just a thing of mine, but I fucking hate distractions, they’re… just so unneeded, just stay focused on the goal, and work towards that end… i’m sure whatever it was I was going on about had some importance to it… Maybe, it’s hard to tell anymore.

Howdy! I’ve got nothing but… love?

So, a big thing with me is trying to either figure out if I’m in love, out of love, or if someone’s smitten with me or not. Usually it’s not, but there are some weird exceptions to the rule, and this isn’t coming from some egotistical point of view where I constantly think, EVERYONE WANTS TO FUCK ME HARD AND BREAK MY BED SPRINGS!” God, as awesome as that would be, I still hold out hope that a bus full of cheerleaders wants me to…. well, fuck em… what else? A MAN CAN DREAM DAMN IT!

Anyways, at work, I’ve been trying to keep to myself and I’ve been failing at that with as much grace as a flame in a wind storm, you know? But, when you spend ten hours a day around the same people, day after day, eventually, something’s going to click, and so, that kind of thing has happened, maybe, I might be reading too much into the whole thing, and maybe I’ve stepped into it yet again, but hey, always hold out hope for love, you know?

Anyways, there are a couple of cute gals at work, and we get along pretty well, and I’m pretty much straight forward with the work type things, and so are they, because, you know, co-workers and all of that.  I need to clip my nails, drives me nuts when I’m writing and they keep popping against the thing, anyways, I finally got the gumption to be all casual like and suggest to one of the gals that we should exchange numbers when we get the chance, and she seems pretty down for the idea, which is cool.

Like i said, I’m trying to be as calm as possible here because you never know if something’s going to go sideways, down, or up, which is just me being cautious, because that kind of thing is always a bit terrifying, maybe it’s just my own hormones kicking the crap out of whatever doubt I’m currently facing down? Or maybe i’m finally becoming a bit more confident at work, since it’s a professional environment and not some college campus where shit is just crazy as fuck sometimes.

The stories I could tell you and probably already have. i’ll keep you guys and gals updated, maybe I’ve found a new gal pal, or maybe just another friend to chat with between bouts of work, who knows? I’m just excited to be on the market again, even though I think I always might’ve been from the moment I switched from being being in a relationship to being single… There is that bit of recovery time though, right? The resetting of the way how one thinks about things… It is an adjustment. Anyways, work awaits, and I’m pretty psyched about the the day, one more day till PERDER!!!! Or, you know…

Payday! Woot motherfuckers!

I see the little things, and fuck em. right in the skull.

Ello, ello, ello, ello! And how are we doing today? i’m going to ramble on a bit because fuck logic and let’s just see where this goes? Yes, we’ll see where it goes! So first off, sorry I haven’t posted in forever, my work schedules been fucking me creative wise for a while, and I figure getting this shit out now is a better use of my time, since I love Amazon and everything the company does, so you know, work where you shop and all will be well? I guess, I mean, pizza guys don’t eat pizza very often since they’rearound that stuff all the tiem and you know, stuff and thangs and work related bull shit. Speaking of which, let’s talk about work related bullshit, shall we?

I’m a UR. No, not an URUK, that’d be a UK based Universal Reciever, anyways, my job, or task, actually, somedays I get trained on a few things at once and I’m like, woot! But my task is to take a box, boop the box, and make things go in order. Too complicated? Fuck nah, it’s simple, but what really fucks me over is te fact that some of the other UR’s in the line I’m working in just let the work fucking float on by, it’s like, seriously? These idiots fucking run around thep lace talking to their friends, play fighting in the lines ando ther shit when boxes are rolling passed them, like do they even care? Are they not understand that while, yeah, rates are fun and all of that, work is fucking work, not a chance to ask fifty fucking questions in a god damned row and slow down whoever the fuck is on the other side of the station because you have some unimportant idiocy going on in your life that you have the need to share. And that’s anothe hting, usually, if I can help it, I’ll try to get placed somewhere in the middle, and that’s great and all, usually in them iddle or at the end, because that’s where the majority of the leftover work tends to fall on the busy days.

Sunday we had these wierd little breaks between boutis of box booping, which is fine, let the work pile up, we boop the shit of the boxes, get them to where it needs ot be going and all that fun shit, at the same time, I’m silently flipping out because the day before a PS gets on my case for going to fast with those boxes of little items that are usually 150 to 200 little things, pretty much a easy game of pokemon where you don’t want to catch ’em all.

Anywho, the gal across from me, bless her heart, K, tells me she’s an LA, and based on what she’s seen, I’m doing pretty well for myself, which is amazing news to hear, because my DR is fucking terrible, and my WR is fucking amazing, so the differencei s fucking crazy, not to mention I finally got around to buying a watch which will save me a shit ton of time not having to look at the time every five minutes wondering when FB and SB are and which one I should take. Speaking of which, Sunday, also learned how to PrEd, pretty simple, no DR or WR to worry about, which is nice, but there’s no variation between booping, but there is a variation in where the stuff goes, so that’s nice, no need to worry about ST shooting it to OB, IB, or the SoTo’s, the AT’s or the DT’s, which is fucking amazing. i’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while, and I needed a while to figure out the lingo, so hopefully, I can nail down a schedule where i’m posting blogs on the regular. Speaking of which, I’ve been cranking out chapters left and right when it comes to Compiling parts, pretty simple stuff.

I haven’t really worked on the game too much lately, my creative’s been fucked, because I sleep, wake up, get ready for the day, go to work, come home, rinse and repeat, there’ve been some days where I get some writing done, which helps out in the long run, but the goals still the same, anyways, it’s getting a bit late in the day and the evenings and nights in the High Desert are a bitch to deal with when it’s cold… Should most likely invest in a head lamp and an extended battery, which I desperately need. Or a new laptop… That might actually go the distance, or try upgrading this one… Need to figure out what parts are compatible with it, no need to spend more money than I actually need to.

Well, let’s do this!

I’ve been through a thing or two, because I’ve seen a thing or two, and I’m not sure at what point those things or two can get fucking bored of this joke, also it takes me five or so minutes to get settled in when I’m getting ready to write a post, so I’m thinking, GREAT… another word I’ve misspelled. I always have trouble with spelling certain words correctly, it’s craaaazy.

Want to know what else is crazy? The fact that I’ve not written in this thing for so long. I’ve got some hard truth’s to nub out, but I’m not going to focus on them, because I’ve only 4.5 hours of sleep, and people keep slamming into my room to try and distract me from what I’m doing, which is now a thing I have to deal with.

I’ve been busy with writing, with game making, with a bunch of crap that I’m easily distracted by or I just feel like I needed to switch gears on. Oh, right, about 5 weeks ago I tried to hang myself in the garage, and now my folks are trying to crush the story so that way people don’t get freaked out by that fact.

Anyways, floating around is tweet thread about the whole thing, so if I remember about it, I’ll link it at the bottom of this post. Writing… Well, let’s get to that thing very quickly, lately, I’ve been using a writing engine called twinery 2, a kind of branching writing program that’s fucking simple to use, and you don’t need any prior experience to use it.

I’m using it because I love writing books and I love writing expansive stories that are amazing.

What I don’t love are people trying to tell me how to use the program, because that’s when I try to cram as much stuff in it, they either lose interest in what I do, or I just lose interest in that particular thing for a time. But that’s neither here nor there, again, I’ll put a link in the description below.

Those who’ve been following my blog for years, know that I have a passion for creating things, and my latest endeavor in RPG Maker MV, is a triumph in it’s own right. I LOVE making things, it’s what I’m good at, even if the results are a bit shoddy, I know this because I always put 9,000,000% into whatever I’m working on at the moment, and always try to make it the best thing I can.

This current project I’m working on, “Project 1” is the working title, is no different. It still has the same basic premise as my other works, with Darkness and Light being a married couple who need to be extra fucking kinky in bed. So their idea of foreplay is to send newly created souls on adventures and live vicariously through them, because they aren’t so much as people as they are the physical manifestations of the very concepts of Light and Darkness, and who the fuck are we to think they have genitals. Who knows? Maybe their idea of shitting and pissing is summoning the Old Eldritch gods to consume and kill virgins in the upper northern tip of West Virginia, we’ll never know, because that’s just way too meta-physical, and we’ll never know the truth of WHY THEY CHOOSE TO CARRY PIZZA ON THE SIDE INSTEAD OF FLAT WAYS LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE, YOU LOUSY SHITS!

Anyways, I…  I think I channeled my inner John Oliver there, weird. So, this time around, instead of smacking together four random characters and flinging them to the wilds, you’re instead playing as a ghost who takes over the bodies of six characters, in one case, you’ll be switching between creepy twins, no reason, just a gameplay mechanic, and seeing the world through their eyes. The interesting part about this, is you’re told right off the bat “that you’re nothing more than a sex toy to the couple, now go out there and start adventuring you freshly baked fuckboi!” In essence, dear god folks, I put a bit more work into it than that, lol.

So, because I’m so interested in branching paths and separate but connected storytelling, there are three paths to take, Light, Neutral, Darkness, and each has five to six paths, making it 15 to 18 possible adventures, including one where you just wander around a library, and due to some interesting flaws in the editor and my own laziness to go any deeper than I have to, get repeatedly yelled at for climbing on the bookshelf in increasingly more hilarious ways.

Not to mention I might make a fourth path with an actual story behind it,  well, the whole thing will have an overarching story behind it, I just don’t like to pigeonhole myself into specifics or else I’ll just end up getting bored with it trying to find tune the shit out of everything OVER AND OVER AND OVER again,

On top of that, I’ve got two different Discord servers I’m running, which I need to transfer ownership over to myself, so that way I can really get things kicked off. A fresh start so to speak, though I really do have having to delete anything, though I’ve already have a few other things on my plate already.

Hrm… what else? Not much… Anyways, have a good one!

Link to the tweet thread about my suicide attempt:

Link to my Philome.la page:
http://www.philome.la/MorganGavin

Coffee Thoughts in the morning!

God I fucking love coffee!

Seriously, nothing more satisfying in the mornings then hcocking down some random shit I no longer care about writing.

Well, not that topic anymore, I don’t write these morning blogs just to be all philosophical and shit, I write them to just fucking say what’s on my mind, and there’s not really much on my mind, no, really!

I used to try and make sense of the world, try to unlock it’s various dick shaped puzzles, and try to be something more than my mind actually was:

Infinite confuckled about everything stupid and trying to be more intelligent than a methed out gerbil being stupid funny on a facebook live of a Captain Hook porn parody where no one’s having fun, and everything just seems fucked.

More or less, I’m sure the clown in the corner, sadly jacking it to a rendition of “hurt me more” by the Sugarpops and Daddy6969 is truly just wonderful.

Outside of that, I drink coffee and slap my face against the keyboard because i need to more freeform with my thoughts, try not to bog em down with the heavier shit, because that’s what the fuck I was doing for a long fucking time, you know?

Understand the mysteries of the universe, logic it all out.

There’s nothing to logic out, it’s all impulse!All fuck this, blow up that, make fun of this person, why?

What’s the point?

Aren’t we fucked enough already without that added pressure of the constant shit talking?

Maybe we just need to shut our minds down for a bit and relax, not worry about what the others are doing as Jack and beanstalk simply refers to the act of getting a blowjob from a snaggle toothed, broken jawed hooker during an earthquake on a rickety roller coaster.

Or maybe it’s something more which I don’t have the mental patience to deal with?

I dunno…

I just do not know.

I’ve spent so much of my life looking at a keyboard that it’s really the one constant thing, more constant than staring at a screen for one reason or another.

Although it does seem a bit more fun than backwards fisting a zombie in the ass.

Maybe?

Yeah definitely don’t want to think about reverse fisting anything that’s decomposing.

Ha… You’re thinking of it aren’t you?

LMAO!

that’s the thing I love about coffee thoughts, you can just say whatever’s on yer mind and not really have to worry about a fucking thing!

It’s a freeing feeling, something I’ve continually missed as i’ve plugged away at this project or that project, wondering when and if I’d get back to the one thing that really matters, randomly blogging about nothing at all, or making some sort of sense to the five people that actually read this thing, all over the world…

Did you know I used to be read all over the world?

Seriously, that shit was insane, yeah, I used to talk mad shit about people over at VVC back when there was shit talking to be done, but I was fucked read all over the place.

Sometimes for good reasons, other times for bad, sometimes for reasons that  seemed a bit obtuse, no, no intelligent words.

BAD BRAIN, BAD FUCKING BRAIN!

Point being, I guess no matter what I do, I’m going to have some kind of draw, some kind of gravitational pull, even if I don’t think I have one. After all, hits are hits, regardless of how many times or how many minutes people read or watch. not that i’m complaining, it’s just a natural fact of life that now a days, if you’re aren’t shit talking someone, you’re not a part of the cool crowd, though to be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of the cool crowd?

Maybe?

I’m not really sure anymore, everything’s a bit fuzzy in the memory, sometimes I get flashes of the person I used to be in my twenties, and I look back at the things I wanted to accomplish, and look upon my many failings, and see that there is a veritable graveyard of them. But I can’t give up!

Not giving up!

Ever since I tried to hang myself, I’ve come to the realization that my life, my efforts, my everything really, is more important than just some one off project that for one reason or another needs to be slapped together in the form of a blog or something to make others happy.

It’s a way of keeping myself motivated for the future, to punch that sun right in the fucking dick!

To proclaim to the world that all should HAIL BILL FUCKING WATSON!

To make the most badass shoutout videos in the world and keep people smiling.

I lost the goal of that in the course of chasing high hit counts and wanting people to subscribe to me.

I lost that point, maybe that’s why my follower count hasn’t risen or fallen? Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to get anymore traction?

Or ,maybe I just secretly gave up the rat race once I figured out the truth of the matter, that no matter what I try, there’s always going to be someone to shit on my parade.

So I need to shit on theirs first, because of course that’s going to be a thing, right?

I create because it’s what I’m excellent at, I’m godlike when it comes to creating things.

the question is, how do I turn that creation into profit, more importantly, how did I go from using all of my finger to only using five? that shit confused the hell out of me.

Is it to match my internal voice when it comes to… thinking?

I dunno, don’t care, batshit crazy thought time:

So a penguin with a machete and a tiny top hat went on a tiny adorable rampage at a library and that shit went sideways with the chihuahua FBI showed up and was all “BARK BARK MOTHERFUCKER!”

I KEEP FORGETTING THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG, TO NOT MAKE SENSE, TO HAVE FREE FLOWING THOUGHT IN A WAY THAT’S NEITHER CONSTRICTING NOR CAUSES ME TO PAUSE, LIKE AN ECLECTIC COLLECTOR OF LECTURES. HA! I DID A THING THAT MADE ME SMILE ON THE INSIDE.

PEOPLE SAY I NEED TO SMILE MORE, WHY? WHAT’S THE POINT? WHAT AM I SMILING AT?

THE SUN?

THAT SHIT’S BEEN THERE FOR TRILLIONS OF YEARS, AND NO AMOUNT OF SMILING IS GOING TO CHANGE THAT.

OH, SHIT, I’VE HAD CAPS LOCK ON THIS ENTIRE TIME.

There we go, that’s going to read very weird, people are going to be like “Why is he yelling about smiling at the sun?”

Puppies, I don’t know, that’s just the word I was focused on when my fingers hit the keyboard, and now this blog is getting more metaphysical than I’d actually like. I need to practice using more than just two fingers- SHUT THE METAMINDFUCKING PHYSICAL BULLSHIT DOWN!

There we go, hate it when that happens, because than I’m just focused on the random bullshit that’s going on, and you see what’s ACTUALLY going on instead of enjoying a nice nonsensical blog about shit that no longer matters ten minutes down the road as you focus on which Forte Nite skin to use to do the same thing over and over and over and over again. Because really, that’s all gaming really is, and maybe I’m over extending my reach as John Wick 3 is just about John Wick going on a murder rampage because someone took his plate of nachos at golden Corral, and john’s had enough of that shit.

The movie will be a veritable and verifiable week long in running time. And it will be just millions of senior citizens rushing John in an attempt to fuck with death itself.

Wow, that’s on my mind heavily, maybe it’s something more, or something less.? I need to go to the mental gym more often and work on the mental gymnastics required to keep this train of thought going?

Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t give a fuck anymore about trying to make sense, nope, old topic, moving forward, moving on!

I like writing songs, it’s a pretty fun experience, to hear the flow of the music as you slap a ham sandwich against the way and make fart noises and than you think, well this isn’t making music, just making a mess.

Writing can be harsh with a broken heart.

Self motivation is what keeps me going, self motivation to punch through whatever is slowing me down, selfm otivation to prove that I can knock something out each and everyday, even if it’s just adding a little bit more to the part I’m working on. It’s tough, harsh, and unbelievably hard to pull off, but somehow each day, with a cup of joe and a blaring playlist of Happy Hardcore music, i’m able to get both a little ifction written, as well as a blog post about whatever the fuck I’m feeling at the moment.

And at the moment? i’m feeling great… Not really. I’m stuck in a quagmire of slow thoughts turned exhaustion, I write about being tired, I become tired, bored, and start to yawn, and there goes the day.

I’m punching through this as much as i possibly can, because how else am I going to get through writing. To me, at least, the worst enemy you can have is yourself. Because, as you know, your own brain is actively working against you every step of the way, trying to slow you down, trying to make you sluggish in whatever you try to accomplish, and right now, my brain is slowly but sure tryng to keep me from accomplishing my goals. Which can be an incredib;ly frustrating feeling.

Especially when you’ve got a book of blogs and other things to knock out which I will. I’m tired of not working on that thing, I’m tired of not pulling though on the one thing that’s been haunting me for such a long time. And yes, It is a very dull, boring, and exrutiating process, and I sometimes think I won’t be able to stand on my own two feet, but god fucking damn it, I need to make this happen, I don’t want to be stuck at my parents house forever, and it’s incredibly draining on my self confidence, because I’m feeling up then down, and it fucks with you, it truly does screw with your head.

I know I can get through this massive headache, i know that it’s just a matter of time before something launches me forward in life, and I NEED to start writing about what’s going through my mind instead of just dancing around the topic like I’m afraid of what the consequences are going to be. Yeah, posting on Facebook can be lethal because of FB politics, but at least here? Here, oi can roar to the mountains and back about whatever the fuck is own my mind and try my damndest to get through the day.

Motivation is key in anything we do, and it’s only those moment where we falter that we’re truly happy for what we’ve accomplished with our lives. I need that happiness more than ever right now! not that i’m complaining, well, fuck it, I am, I’m not going to sit idly by and let others just roar whatever the fucks going on in THEIR lives and cast me into the fucking flames of perdition to whomever the fuck they want and i’m just stuck here like I’m useless and powerless to say whatever the fuck I need to to get through the dya, I need to vent, I need to destress, and right now?

donald Motherfucking Trump is a cuckolded dumpster fire on wheels, that shit stained motherfucker is screwing everything up and NO I don’t need to post specifics, because why the fuck would I do something incredibly boring as point out hte fucking prom baby abortion he has been to our allies and enemies! I Donald trump is the kind of guy that would fuck his own daughter than separate her from the family, just so no one can claim incest.

donald trumps a fucking traitor to this country, I don’t give two fucking shits what you think or feel, the mother fucker is treasonous and we all know, the Republican party just won’t admit to shitting on the floor because they know that the moment they do, the fucking moment they DO, that their chances of getting another Republican in office just slimmed down faster than a starving kid in the fashion industry.

fuck you, you know that shits real, and that’s why it’s so god damned dark.

Donald trump is the abortion the country needs to happen. Let me rephrase that, the country needs to have an abortion and remove this fat, orange, tantrum throwing, pants shitting, face rash having shit bag forcibly removed from office as fast as fucking possible!

And no, I’ve stated this in the past, if the fucktard hadn’t been in bed with Putin, and he’d run an honest campaign, and hadn’t shit all over himself on Twitter, then maybe MAYBE THE 80% OF THE COUNTRY WOULDN’T BE PISSED OFF!

Where art thou?

Love ends, the search begins, and a memory of a sexy Code Girl rises.

Don’t let the picture fool you, I’m now single.

there’s a slightly heartbreaking sentence.

The failing of a relationship to hold together, merely on the basis of the man’s inability to get the woman pregnant. mind you, said woman is not legally divorced, and is only legally separated.

Oh, and she had just turned 30.
So, I’m guessing, THAT’S a valid reason to break up with someone?
We weren’t trying for kids, we had talked about the possibility of kids AFTER we had gotten married, only getting married AFTER she had finalized the divorce.
Maybe she’s just looking for another baby daddy?
Yeah, I’m guessing that’s it.
Because she straight up told me that she’s passed the point of recovery and is moving forward.
Well, I’m happy to hear that, good for you!
REALLY.
Good… For YOU.
Because let’s face it folks, when a relationship ends, there’s only one real way to deal with everything, and NO… you sick little fuckers, it’s not to buy the original Kermit T. Frog puppet on Ebay and have live streamed fuck session with it, because THAT’S not what I did.
Nope, I just sat there, stonefaced, like a boss, cut to the point, when she tried repeating old arguments, I cut her off, stating plainly that we’d already talked about that. And she tried FB shaming ME.
I’ll give you a minute to laugh, because I’m laughing as well, in fact I haven’t stopped laughing about her attempt at controlling the break up like it was a fucking press release, and I straight up told her as well, “Break ups aren’t like a clothing release, you have no control over that whole thing, and since you’ve already let me know what this meeting is already about, I’ve ALREADY got the emotional part out of the way.”

I was like motherfucking Obi Wan.
“I HAVE THE HIGH GROUND ASHLEY, IT’S FOOLISH! I LOVED YOU LIKE A WIFE, YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE, YOU WERE MEANT TO BRING BALANCE TO THE FORCE, NOT TIP IT OT THE DARK SIDE!”

Nope, not feeling bad, I ended the relationship, i’m owning it, not letting the little twerp take that shit away from me. Because you know what? After a month and a half of absofuckinglutely nothing? I felt nothng in return, I treated her in that short 20 minute conversation, as she treated me, and it felt WONDERFUL.

She tried making the tears, and I just continued looking her in the eyes, not a tear drop forming in my own. She knew what the hell she was doing when she sent that text, and I knew what the hell it meant, so I waited a full day before reacting, because if there’s one thing I REALLY hate? It’s being left in suspense.

I’m sorry, this ain’t “Dukes of Hazard”
“Looks like them Duke boys got a notice of potential break up from Daisy, wonder how they’ll get themselves out of this one? Stay tuned and find out!”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Fuck that bullshit. We were together for two years, and I learned a thing or two from her, always prep for the best, mehhest, and worst scenario, have things in place ahead of  time, and the let the fucking odminos fall where they may.

i’m thinking to myself the whole entire time, like, “don’t tear up, don’t tear up, don’t move, don’t react., don’t even blink. Don’t blink, you blink, and that’s when she’ll attack!” Like it’s an episode of Doctor Who and she’s a weeping angel, lmao.

i’m choosing to find the humor in this situation, because I can’t find anything to be mad aboooooout…. Yes, yes I can, one thing, always one thing. She was constantly late, she said she’d be there at a certain time, she’d never, EVER be there on time. Until the second year in the relationship, where she MAGICALLY got all the timing right.
Yay.

Small victories folks, small victories.
For some reason, she always hid me away in her room, like she didn’t want me talking to her folks, like she had already known that ANY man she’d met on Tinder was just a rebound dick, and should NEVER develop any kind of friendship with her friends or family.
bitch please, herding me is like herding twenty cats without any treats, my ass is all over the place, talking to every single person in the room if there’s something sparkly on them. Like, “Well, we’re going over there- SPARKLY THING PERSON IS HOLDING, BRB ROFLCOPTER!”

There were a bunch of things she did, small things, annoying things, things that stayed under the radar because A, those small things happened behind the smoke screen of, “It’s okay, I’ll be patient, because at the moment, I love, respect, and want to make sure she’s amazingly happy. Plus, I fuck like a mother fucking BEAST, and she ain’t NEVER finding dick like me ever again should she leave me.”

Words to live by folks, words to fucking live by. And I get it, people grow apart over time, things change, and sometimes a breakup needs to happen for those people to find their true happiness, and in the end, despite all the jokes, because at the end of the day, despite what looks like a massive, dickishly mean, asshole take down of this woman?

We were perfect together. We completed each other in so many different ways that we both honestly believed early on that it could’ve led to marriage. She laughed at nearly every joke I made, and I laughed at every joke she made, even if I didn’t connect with it. I loved her, as one would love the air in their lungs.

I loved her, her daughter, her family, her brother, and I connected well with her friends and extended family. I feel no guilt over how things ended, for a while, I understood completely, she supported me during my time in Great Lakes, sending me perfume scented letters and pictures, letters, pictures, gifts which I still keep to this day, granted, she returned the picture I made for her, bitch move Ashley, total bitch move, but, I understand the motivation for it.

We had both been thinking of ending the relationship, I just got to the finish line first. there was no breakup sex, she could’ve been offering, but I had my laptop with me, getting some work done, and I just didn’t feel like spending four minutes packing up after only being there for an hour or so.

It’s… it’s for the best, right? She’ll find someone, I’ll find someone, and those few precious memories not captured on picture or video will slowly fade away, as… as they were mean’t to.

It’s been a few weeks, and I can’t even remember what her voice properly sounds like, so… Progress, I guess?

Before we met up in person, there was another woman, just one singular meeting, mostly nonverbal. A Kirsten, Chirsten, Kristen, Christien… She was absolutely astounding, she was Caucasian, around five foot six inches, maybe taller, brown hair, cut short, buzzed on the sides, made into a small pony tail, eyes that you could REALLY fall into.
She was programming an A.I. for a hospital, she worked in the I.T. department, I think. She was wearing a white tank top, might’ve been either a C or B cup, nice body, beautiful voice, I wanted to kiss her right then and there.
I’ve always had a thing for women with tattoos, as there’s always a story behind every one, even if it was just someone liking the design.
We talked intermittently as we both worked, striking up a conversation only when we had finished the majority of our work, though, secretly, I think she might’ve been one Kim A.K.
But, that’s just a theory, a identity theory! Thanks for watching!

Kirsten sent me a text one night after Ashley and I had finished making love, she asked who that was, and i told her all about Kirsten, and she was pretty cool about it. In the text, Kirsten asked what I was up to, or if we wanted to meet up, and I apologized, that during the time we had last seen each other, I had found someone else, and that we had been going out for a few weeks. She asked for a picture, so I sent one of Ashley and I at the park during one of the days I was trying to study for the ASVAB.

I wished her much happiness in her search for the perfect guy, and she wished us much happiness and a long and healthy relationship, and outside of a few times where I sent her a ‘How’s it going?” text, I hadn’t heard back from her.

My only question for her at the moment is this:

“Where art thou?”

The Job search

Ugh… the coffee is stale this time around, but it still works out.

Anyways, yesterday I actualy went outside and went for a walk… And had to do a job search, because reality, and lack of book sale, and blah blah blah. Since I don’t drive, I walked, which is fine, I like the exorcise, but I’m not going to be able to leasurely walk around forever… But it was nice, the weather was cooperating for once and I just needed to get out of the house, do a change of pace. Normally, I’m sitting in front of the laptop, mug of coffee in hand, knocking out a few pages for a few minutes, then going onto my three accounts in Sola.Ai and trying to do something there and figure out the best way to earn some money from that, in addition to not trying to lose my mind from the boring as fuck day to day things.

I sometimes lead a life of repetition and it does drive me crazy from time ot time. Sometimes I can handle it, other times a change of pace is needed and I just need to get the fuck out of the house for a day. Everyone’s like that I guess! I keep forgetting to put exclamation points, but yesterday was like a breath of fresh air, I was feeling great! I like that feeling!

😀

There. A smiley face.

Anyways, so I hit up Denny’s, Haybirds, Buffalo Wild Wings, Jess Ranch Cinemark, Guiseppes, 24 hour fitness, and Best Buy in the course of an hour and a half. Mind you, I’m on foot, so this takes a bit longer. I managed to get some great footage of the Wash, otherwise known as the Mojave River, which is dry as hell about three quarters of the year, and an actual river whenever it decides to rain.

So, I had a crap ton of Resume’s and Business Cards on hand during my little adventure, here’s how it stacked up:

Denny’s:
Application: Need to fill out and bring it back.
Resume: Dropped off.
Business card: Dropped off.

Haybirds:
Application: Need to fill out and bring back.
Resume: Need to drop off with resume.
Business card: Dropped off.

Buffalo wild wings:
Application: Need to fill out online.
Resume: Dropped off.
Business card: Dropped off.

Best Buy:
Application: Need to fill out online.
Resume: Dropped off.
Business card: Dropped off.

Jess Ranch Cinemark:
Application: Need to fill out online.
Resume: Dropped off.
Business card: Dropped off.

Guiseppes:
Application: They’ll call me if interested.
Resume: Dropped off.
Business card: Dropped off.

24 hour fitness:
Application: Need to fill out online and print out.
Resume: Drop it off with application.
Business card: Need to drop it off with resume and application.

So far, my first “Miniboss” Project is 898 pages long.

So, I’ve been working on a giant ass book of blogs for a few weeks now, …. Dear fucking god, I had NO idea what level of asshole I was back in the day, I mean, yeah, there were quite a few eff ups here and there, but GOD DAMNED was I mistaken at just how many fucking idiocies I wrote into my own lexicon of spoken word.

The Marjory Stoneman Douglas Shooting.

Again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
This keeps happening at an ever increasing rate.
Someone decides to commit a school shooting.
They plan it out.
They know the territory.
They arm up, set out, and plan on dying.

And then the bullets start flying. Children die. The police show up. News catches wind. And then the cycle simply continues. 17 teenagers are dead. Seventeen. Seven futures taken away by the selfish and unwarranted aggression by a single, stupid person.

And Congress just sits there, powerless to do anything because the NRA keeps cock blocking them on passing some much needed legislation regarding stricter gun control laws. Maybe it’s time? Maybe this time is the right time to have this very uncomfortable conversation about tightening up laws regarding the sale and use of firearms in America, when clearly, so very clearly, we absolutely need to have this discussion, even in the face of political aggression by the National Rifle Association.

This is no longer about the mentally ill carrying out the attacks, whether or not it was purchased legally or found on the corpse of a crackhead who overdosed. When lives of students, high school students, especially high school students or younger, are put in jeopardy or lost due to gun violence erupting out of no where? This is the time to have that very important discussion about how far the Fifth Amendment can be stretched.

200 years ago, when America was still being settled, and the wilds of our countries citizens were still being very much tamed, yes. Guns were a very much and very necessary part of life for survival. But now? In 2018, when we are at nearly the peak of civilization as we currently know it? No, we don’t need guns in the public’s hands, not in an era of Social Unrest stemmed by a very shifty president. Not when everything and anything can set a person off, not when grudges are held, sometimes till a very real and sometimes fatal occurrence happens because of a video game interaction, not when there have been seven mass shootings in the last month alone.

And most certainly, not on Valentines Day.
A holiday most associated with love, togetherness, the growing positive emotional outburst.

Was this a crime of the heart?
A jilted lover?
A rejected advance?
A former student, theoretically named Nicholas Cruz, for whatever reason, decided to take the lives of 17 students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Why? What was the reasoning? Why is the question, it’s not what he did, it’s not how he did it, we know how he did it, Nicholas got a gun, walked on campus, pulled the fire alarm, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

Last week, a 19 year old fucked a dead girl, broke her legs so she’d fit in a plastic crate, made it look like she ran away, and bragged about it to his friends and co-workers.

The week before that, Logan Paul tasered a dead rat.

Clearly, the spring has been wound too tightly, the tension has grown so much, the storm of madness is slowly leaking out and it’s causing people to lose their damned minds, and commit acts of such insanity, such high levels of cruelty, such deep levels of depravity, that no one knows what exactly to do.

16 dead.
A rat tasered.
A dead girl fucked then folded like a lawn chair.

These are the low points in our countries history, at this moment. It doesn’t matter the political spectrum in which you sit. It doesn’t matter. We need change now, we’ve now breached into a new level of outrageous, when mass shootings aren’t the only things making headlines. Is necrophilia and animal cruelty going to become the new norm now? Are we going to just keep allowing this kind of shit to happen, over and over and over again until it just becomes so much that we’re passed the point of no return?

I love this country, born and raised in the good old United States America, but lately? America is slowly becoming a scary place, a place where anyone can achieve whatever they want. Good, bad, ugly, or just plain insane.

When will change happen?
Who will finally step up to the plate and simply neck snap the mass shooter on live TV to show that enough is enough?
Or rather, the question… it isn’t who….
But Rather when?

Till then… This is just going to happen again…
And again….
And again…
And again…

 

Just some random brain shit… Maybe.

Okay, it’s been a while since I’ve actually talked about what’s going on in my life on this thing. Why did I stop? Because my mother, god bless her soul, is somewhat particular over what I talk about, like she’s afraid someone’s going up and break the house because of one blog post. Seriously, it’s somehow that bad… Which is somewhat hilarious.

But, here I am. Instead of in the Navy, which is where I should’ve been, had I not caught Pneumonia and fallen behind in training… And getting Separated, let’s not forget that whole shlameagle. Yeah, I get moved from one stress filled spirit dish to another, make a bunch of friends, and look at that! I’m off topic again! But, I dunno, we’ll be moving in a few months, so that means I’ve gotta find a job, because when they leave, I stay… Or something like that. OR I might still be renting when they leave… Which is always a thing.

Which could be cool, but I try not to focus anymore on the “What if this actually happened!?” And I had the place to myself? I dunno what I’d do to be honest… Make more videos? Actually be able to enjoy myself for more than two days at a time? I dunno… don’t get me wrong, home life is… interesting when I’m not getting reamed for one thing or another,at the same time though, it’s more that I don’t have any motivation to do anything else besides what I’ve been doing.

Yeah, I’ve worked 9 to 5s before, and while the pay is well worth the frustration I sometimes felt while working there, I dunno… it’s just not me. But, that time is nigh approaching for when it has to be me! Or something like that… But I figure it like this, the more projects I get done and published, the happier I’ll be, the more confident I’ll be, and the bigger fish I’ll move up to.

It always comes up to that doesn’t it? The great cycle of things. You start it up, it goes well, you get lazy, you forget about a few things, and boom,  you’re back at square one, just a little bit wiser with what you want to get for. Mind you, it’s not a bad way to kick things off, there are worse ways to go about the cycle of things, but for the most part, it just, is what it is.

I’ve had more theories about the way my life’s been headed than I can count. And sometimes the more introspective stuff is just a bit on the nose. For instance, I often think about what my life would’ve been like had my parents stayed married for the entirety of my life up to this point. Would i still be in the same situation? Would I have had the same friends? The same relationships? what about career choice? you never really know about the different aspects and the divisions your personal timeline could take unless you REALLY take a good hard long look at it. And that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing a lot lately.

Right now, as it stands, I’m more dedicated, career wise, to the idea of being an Author, and stapled to the struggles that come along with it. I know that because I fucked around a lot, because I never really took my schooling seriously, focused more on the social aspect of things that my life, in reality, is going to be a bit more harsher than I originally thought it was going to turn out.

Let’s see, the pro’s? The Pros of my life, as it is right now at the time of writing this post are: I’ve got a wonderful girlfriend, both my biological and step parents are alive, I’ve got brothers and sisters, I’ve got a ton of friends, loving parents and extended family, plenty of pets, horses and chickens, and I was, for whatever period of time, in the military.

Not bad, not bad at all Morgy boy! So, now, we do the shitty side of things… The Cons.

The cons are as follows: I live at home, my bio parents divorced when I was young, one of my step parents went insane (The one I rarely see.), I haven’t seen my brothers or sisters in years, my mom can be a bit over the top and flip on a dime about any number of things. Yes, I’ve got a ton of friends, but if I’m not posting something relevant to their interests, I’m kind of dust. My IRL friends I sometimes don’t talk to for weeks at a time. And I was separated for catching a super flue and falling behind in training.

There are no downsides to my girlfriend, I love her to pieces!

Anyways, I’m running out of writing steam here… And I’ve lost track of whatever the fuck I was talking about… I might have ADHD or ADD… who knows.

Stupid Teenagers piss me off.

Okay, let’s get this nailed down right off the bat. There are SMART Teenagers, and then there are fucking dumbass ones that feel like they know better. They do not. We were all Teens once, and dear god, the blissful ignorance was amazing. Look, I know I’m not going to gain any fans by saying this, and it’s a horrible thought to have, but the little fucking idiots who died from the Tide Pod Challenge? Do you think that’s the universes way of sparing us a future mass shooting or a mass cult suicide? I’ve always been on the nice side of thinking about this kind of thing.

And now we’ve got a 12 year old girl who said it was an accident and committed a school shooting in which no one was hurt.But she is being taken into custody, which makes up for something. Look, the fact she convinced the cops that it was an accident, is cool, she’s 12.

But were a 12 year old boy to do this same thing? Jesus, we’d be hearing about it nonstop for the next week! IT’s these kinds of antics that make me question whether or not teens today are smarter then us. Obviously not, because the dumb ass ones are doing the Tide Pod Challenge while being racist little shit heads on CoD and trying to outdo each other in performing the same thing, over and over and over.

Look, I’m not going to rip Teens a new one because they’re going to be dumb asses. That’s kind of their thing, that’s kind of their goal in life. Do dumb shit now, learn from said dumb shit, try not to die, and become all the smarter for it.

We see the truth, but only through the static Trump creates.

We know what he’s done.
We want to prove that he’s done it.
We want to focus on what Trumps done to fuck the core of our Democracy.

But we’re constantly distracted by all the other shit that Trump’s pulled, too much so. I’d say that at this point, we’re the detective with ADHD that has all the clues, the confession, the footage, everything and keeps getting distracted by little things. It’s fucking ridiculous. We know of EVERYTHING and yet we’re still dickin’ around, playing with the news as if it contained something precious!

Why? Why can’t we just punch through the Trump Static and learn the truth? Why is the news beating around the bush? What is taking so long? Why can’t we just oust the fucker from office, charge him with treason, put him on death row, and move on from the fucking thing? Are we that enamored with this whole thing that we just can’t get to the end?

This isn’t crying, or raging, this is asking the essential simple question:

How are we getting to the root of it all, and more importantly, when will the other shoe drop?

My ear feels weird…

Last night I had a weird dream, and in the dream, I was trying to figure something out. It was like I was lost in the woods, trying not to focus on what was right in front of me, even though that was the important part, and focus on everything else that was happening in the area. It seems stupid, I know, but that’s how I am now a days ever since coming home from being Separated from the Navy for catching pnuemonia andfalling behind in training.

They did something to me, something that I’m not able to account for, they broke me, and in turn, broke a little bit of who I was away. I can’t find that peice, I’m easily distracted if over stimulated, and more prone to getting angry than I was before. Normally, I’m a pretty calm person, but lately, I dunno, it’s almost like I’m not my old self anymore. Like I’m trying to fight my way through a smokeyroom, but I’m the only one there, left to my own paranoia about who else might be in there with me.

It doesn’t make any sense to continually dwell on this, but at the same time, it feels perfectly normal for me to want to talk about this kind of thing. And while I know for a #realnews fact that my Lady Love, friends and family will be there to talk to, there’s always been this more visceral, more thorough satisfaction in writing out whatever’s bother me!

Lately it’s trying to get past that initial wall of surface level thoughts, but that’s like diving into wet cement trying to get through to the other side, there’s always so much resistance, that I can only write or say what’s on my mind, whats ACTUALLY on my mind, after repeated attempts to breach the subject. Sometimes they are depressing, other times enraging, and other times there’s nothing there.

I’ve been blogging nearly my whole adult life, and in some instances, way before then. So I’ve got a lot of pages under my belt… I still need to get everything organized… But I’ll get it done, and published. I just need to stay focused…. My ear feels weird.

I have blogger’s anxiety.

Okay, so it’s been a while since I’ve written a blog entry here, like for a REALLY long time I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write. I was worried that whatever I was going to write wasn’t going to be trendy or funny, or catch people’s eyes, not to mention that the pressure of social media to be trendy or cute, or whatever the fuck is happening in the world is almost too much.

So I trapped myself in the world of fiction, I put myself there for so long that I no longer felt like I had anything else to write about in the real world, where as in the past I was BOLD, brave, reckless, ready to offend and not give two shits about whatever it was I was oging to go off about. That route made me somewhat popular, but at the same time it had me worried that I was going to offend the wrong people with my words. MY FUCKING WORDS.

In truth, my parents kept interrupting me whenever I was writing something down, almost to the point of being a super coincidental annoyance. I Guess that’s my biggest gripe about blogging, I want to start there and work my way out, because it’s super hard for me to stay focused, and sometimes I need to talk about what’s bothering me. After all, this IS morgansmindcicles.wordpress.com right? RIGHT!?

I love my parents, I REALLY really do. thing is, I’m a writer, writing is what I love to do. It’s my morning bread and butter, it’s the thing that makes me want to reach my arms in the air and fist fuck the sun until it explodes! I don’t consider it a good blogging experience until I’ve written about ten to fifteen paragraphs, which also explains my publishing speed when it comes to Sogno Della Dinastia. brb.

Thing is, mother fucker…. every single god damned time…. No wonder I have fucking anxiety. God that coffee is fucking weak as shit! Anyways, I dunno where my anxiety is stemming from, but I do know for a fact that I’d likje to punch the air so hard it creates mini black holes and shove them right up Donald Trump’s ass! The guy is a complete and fucking idiot, or #fuckidiot because reasons! I usually lead off with something serious then go into the weird inane bullshit because I want to lead away from the topics I’m thinking about, kind of like a certain fuck headed tiny limbed, shit burger fucking Placeholder in Chief.

Donald Trump is like the edgy teen that kicks geesein the face, then claims the police reports are #fakenews. Only thing faker than his perception of the news is how much longer his marriage is going to last and I don’t see that bit of reality being disproven any time soon!

Did you know cupcakes are a thing? I think they are but I’m not too sure. I once wanted to be a porn star, but now after seeing the news, I nolonger feel that way. I should run for President, they’d vote for a porn star? They would, because if people have already seen junk go into your trunk, there’s not much else they can really say. I mean yeah, Stormy would get lots of questions in regards to how thick the dicks were, what position was her favorite, and eventually it would fade into the usual polotical questions and her leanings. Which wouldn’t surprise me in the least. But have no fear, Oprah’s winning the 2020 and we won’t have to worry about a god damned thing anymore.

Call me a Snawflake, but when I shake the mountain, your asses are dealing with a fucking blizzard! Speaking of which, I redownloaded Starcraft Remastered out of nostalgia, and… well, it’s pretty much the same game it’s always been, not going to lie. Like it’s the same game, same way of playing, same everything, but at the same time, youre left wondering what was the point? True, you could use the remastered to introduce new players to the old game play conepts and then ease them into the sequel, but at the same time… I need something new.

I like the map making aspect of it, and I used to be completely boss at making UTGOTY maps like crazy! I came up with some pretty fucking badass map designs, and I’d spend hours making, texturing, and placing the wlak path nodes for the bots. It was a fucking blast! There was this one map, set in space, two basses on a connecting asteroid orbiting the planet? Hell fucking yeah, I loved that shit! I also dabbled in RPGMaker, which I haven’t checked to see if they updated or released a new version of yet.

But I had a pretty bad ass concept, there’d be the classic good versus evil concept, but it wasn’t the usual case of “WE’RE GONNA DEFEAT YOU BECAUSE CHEESECAKE!” It was more like they were an old married couple, and they’d do this as foreplay for when the REAL shit was about to go down, so they’d flip a coin, who ever lost had to be the “Evil”  one, so they’d create four blank souls each with their own story line, but always leading to the outcome of having to face off against the “Evil” side. I put so much fuckign effort into the first attempt, always working on it whenever I had the time and patience for it.

And then the file crashed, so I tried it again, same concept, it was always the same concept, but no matter what I tried, I just couldn’t get it to stick. I thought at first the problem was the scope of the game, so I tried making a small game to ease into things, set the bar low, y’know? No dice, couldn’t even finish a “Point A to point B” game.

Finishing something, getting to the goal. Knowing that you never had to look at it again and that it was off in the world doing it’s thing… That’s my issue. I mean, the process of writing, editing, formatting, and publishing books is a pretty good example of that… I’ve published a number of books:

The Dorikame Saga: Birth of Change

The Dorikame Saga: Broken Omen

Songs of the Soul

The Wrath of Puppy Monkey Baby

Messages to an Illegitimate President

The Debate of Factions

The Six Strings of the the Highlander’s Guitar

But… This is the way of things… Y’know?

I can’t stop the tears…

I’m so tired of it all… So tired of the chase, the constant failure. The level of growing regret, so tired of it… I’m sick of choosing the harder path because of some stupid morale code that tells me the harder way is better, and why is that? Why is the harder way better? Through hard work comes regard? Spare me… spare the stupid rhetoric. spare the mercy or the pity, I’m jut so damned tired. worst of all, I can’t stop the tears that never flow… I wish for the love of god that I could cheer myself up right now, that I could just snap out of it.

I had a great date tonight with my long time friend. I’ve always held an interest for her, something in which the end goal might be unattainable or near impossible to accomplish, but that again, this is nothing new to me. I’m used to this kind of thing. but than again, being 22 years old, she has more important things to worry about that my hurt feelings. Because I’m afraid to speak my mind, to let her know that sometimes she says stuff that’s mind numbing and stupid. I can only respond in weird ways that would make her laugh. I can’t stop the tears that never come. And they never do, just something I’ve gotten used to… I work so hard, and for so long without a girlfriend, without a relationship, constantly tell myself that they aren’t worth the time or distraction… And here I am, perusing yet another unattainable goal. I have no fucking clue how close or far away I am to boyfriend status, and it’s getting to the point where I’d rather just say fuck this bullshit and be alone for the rest of my life.

Than again, its just my panic response, that if I have a good thing, soon to follow must be a bad thing to even it out and reset the madness…

Stupid thought of the day.

I have too many places to write…. I feel somewhat trapped by the number of corners or interruptions that prevent me from accomplishing my goals. I don’t give a fuck about what others have to say in regards to what I post, as I’m pretty used to getting ignored on one level or another. Seems pretty sad when you think about it, but, hey, there it is. I’m like a silent voice, no one really cares what I have to say, and the only way they are able to relate to me is if someone else says something horrid first. I guess that’s what I anted to get out of the way, nothing particularly exciting, just another paste in the wind so to speak. It might sound like pure dumbassery, but that’s reality.
It’s not fun, it’s not great. It kinda sucks, and it’s filled to the brim with people who would see you torn down because of some unforeseen sadness in their own life, or because they think its funny.. Always stay strong, no matter what the odds are. don’t pay too much attention to the outside world, because once you do, you end up figuring out that it’s mostly just bullshit and lies. I’m not trying to be an idiot here, just putting my thoughts out into the void. It’s a strange bit of love here and there that makes sense most days.
But, then again, who the hell am I to say what to do with your life? go out, make mistakes, bad choices, and live life like no tomorrow. Easier said than done.

Of Mice and Mentality, or, screw that noise, I wanna watch Spongebob!

Okay, this past week has been a bit of a blur for me, so let’s start off with a topic everyone can agree to:


They’re arguing about sandwich shops. Please god, let them be arguing about sandwich shops!

so, everyone’s still bugging out about Ben Affleck being a horrible, nightmare inducing, more terrifying than a flying bottle to Justin Beiber’s head, rage terror inducing choice for the next Batman. Because if anyone is more suited to play the Dark Knight, it’s the dude who starred in Giggli… giggly… WTf the movie is.


Say it with me, “I am the night! I am justice… I… Am… Affleckman!”

So, outside of that trauma inducing choice, because you and I both know that with Affleckman cast in the new Affleckman v Supergigli Movie, there will be blood!


Sparkly, sparkly blood!

But… More subjects of conversatin’ await than just the horrid nightmare’s of Cinema, I’ve gotta talk about what the hell is going on in my own life, because Society can kiss my hairy red Haduken:


Or… Just, y’know, whatever the hell screaming nightmare this came from.

Lately, things have been super crazeh:

MY EYES! DEAR GOD, MY EYES!

Because the (Yes, let that image sink in.) semester is quickly wrapping up in more ways than one, I’ve yet to do any actual work for the class outside of hoping beyond hope that our groups presentation is good, if not better then an Avengers movie with all the worst possible actors being cast as all of the characters in the next Avengers movie… Or y’know… a My Little Po-


WHICH ONE IS THOR!? WHICH MOTHERFUCKING ONE!? IS THE MIDDLE ONE APPLEJACK!?

Not surprisingly, me finding my blogging spirit again has been a pretty awesome experience, getting in touch with my inner Internet fueled Rage Demon has given me a bit of a new view point on everything, from class schedules, dating, avoiding trouble, and of course, venting whatever pent up frustratins I have against whatever is ticking me off at the moment. which, considering all possibilities, I’ve been pretty calm in regards to socializing, as well as just getting the presentation done.

However, there are a few gripes I’ve got to take care of-


I-I-I… My inner child is screaming bloody murder and cookies. Yes, that’s a real recipe.

However, thanks to previously mentioned Prayer Circle, things are looking up, mostly because I’ve just been not looking for dates/girlfriends/Slash Cosplayers:

It’s a TRAP, I mean, Chimichanga!

but we’ll see how everything starts to pan out. I need to get my classes organized for next semeser, and I’m actually looking forward to it. My folks are slowly hinting that I need to get a steady paycheck going, and for the most part I agree. Though the author gig is awesome…


I sometimes need to hit the writers block with a Hammer and scream, “Run, damn it!!! Just run away!”

Anyways, I feel I’ve got things in the bag now, though I’m feeling a little like-


AAAUUUUGH, MY EYES!


MAKE THE BLEEDING STOP! MAKE IT STOP, FOR GOD’S SAKE!


WHY DOES THIS NOT HELP ANYTHING!?

Somedays are better than others.

I can’t stand it. I pretend to, but I’m just too frayed at the nerves to do it anymore. I hate living here. Not just in the high desert, but with these people. One person especially. Everyday, every single one of the past four days, I’ve grown to hate that person just a little bit more. Grown to not respect them just a bit everyday. I am tired of pretending to care about their problems as if they were my own. Their voice is a grating sound that become vicious, spiteful, controlling, and full of unwarranted paranioa.

There are times when she’s talking… Shouting about something to me, that I don’t listen passed the second or third thing she says. I’m a nice man by nature, really, I am. But I’ve stopped being fearful of her scorn, if you can call it that. Though there are days when it gets to be too much, that she takes offence at the littlest thing, where even my patience is broken. I shout back, she gets louder, I get louder, she gets in my face, and just from reflex I flinch, just a little bit.

For some reason, she takes this as aggression towards her and snaps at me. After which, I just stare blankly back into her pupils till she breaks eye contact.

I don’t know how much more of this stress I can take. She’s angry about something almost everyday, mostly my fault, but it’s gotten to the point where I just avoid her when I can.

Avoid the source of stress and you’ll be happy. Hard to do when you start the day off happy and by the end of it you want to scream your fucking head off. But I stay quiet, calm, cheerful till I’m alone. Then, and only then, do I let all the stress pour in and take it all in one nasty gulp of sour dissappointment.

Thats it for now. More later.

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