October 23, 2009
Getting through the day, moving through at a regulated pace, practicing my timing – each step on a beat – every two weeks ends with an explosion; the driving beat of the dark piano is what I enjoy about this song. The entire atmosphere Morricone creates is epic. I almost never want this journey to end, and when it does, I am satisfied with where I have gone to.
October 22, 2009
It’s mid-term and here are some things going on:
I’ve been going back and forth from smoking to not smoking, subsequently, I’ve gained some weight. I am not proud of the fact that I have “let myself slip,” as I tend to live a life devoted to good health (obviously, I’ve been failing in this department). I drink so much whiskey that I stagger when I sleep. I have the blues so bad that I can feel them in the dark. I haven’t been eating right, nor have I been exercising as much as I would like to. Thus, my energy is down – my health bar is below fifty percent; my self confidence is fluctuating like a fucking flickering neon light; I am stressing out like a bird that is molting.
I need this weekend to set myself straight, and begin on perfecting my craft. I need to quit smoking, I need to exercise more, I need to relax, I need to focus, I need to concentrate, I need to meditate, I need to inform myself on spirituality & science & sex.
I have a feeling that I won’t be able to finish any of the work that I have outlined for tonight. Why? Because I am jittery as fuck, and I’m tired, and I’m not thinking enough about school and my work. I can’t slip and I won’t slip.
If I have to pull an all nighter to get these projects done then that’s what I’m going to do, because I’m dedicated.
October 21, 2009
Didn’t want this to happen, but it did. I let someone else in, and they tore it all up. Now I just need to act as if it never happened, and that I have never even met the girl before. You told yourself you didn’t believe in love, you told yourself you wouldn’t let yourself slip, you told yourself you would stick to your studies and focus – but you failed. You let someone in, and, much as I would have liked anything to work out, it also failed. You let someone else decide, you weren’t in control, and this is why you should never involve yourself with anyone ever again. That’s a bit dramatic, Geoff. Is it? Because it always ends up this way, no matter how strong you say you are, you always fuck it up. Well what did you expect me to do, change my plans for someone else? No, I don’t expect that from you, man. Right. I hadn’t even planned on going the other night, I just brought it up. Right. I didn’t have any other plans that night, either. Okay. I mean, the next best thing for me to do was to pick up a sixer of beer and drink it all in one bender, right? Ye– NO. Listen: you let someone else dictate your feelings, your actions, and with almost one swift motion cut off the cord to your existence. Naw, my existence? Your personality, and your mind. OK. Am I really not that strong? No, you’re strong, Geoff, but sometimes guillable and way too sensitive – you let words and actions cloud your rationale. How can I be less sensitive and less guillable? I feel like whenever I am less sensitive, that I’m not a good listener, and that I offend people by my stone cold behavior. And when I’m not guillable, I’m a know it all, a smart ass that never lets anyone in on the process. The process? I don’t help people out, I have a difficult time explaining to them how I got to where I did – rules and advice. Ok. Work on it. Work on what?
I think the best thing for you to do is let people alone, and worry about your own problems. Do not ignore others, but act in a way that shows them how you feel in an honest and truthful way. Some people don’t like that. I know, I know.
On second thought, I think the best thing for you to do is to exit the scene entirely. Last weekend was a bust, if one is to judge the success of living in terms of pussy count, you would be a 3. (whereas your counterpart is scoring a 5,000) It was akward because you were so stoned, and so drunk, and so tired, and his actions were uncalled for, even though he’s played that game before I suppose you were sick of it, eh? Yeah, I was sick of it. I wanted the guy offa me, and I tried to be reasonable, “You’ve had too much to drink, man, get off me.” But he wouldn’t budge, and he played that act, and I was just sick of it. What else did he expect? The combination of drugs and alcohol does silly things to a man when he’s accosted in such a fashion. You get someone dancing, if he’s blind – which, in fact, I am blind – he’ll dance with anyone. Now, whether or not he regrets such an action all depends upon the character of this person. I, on one hand, was revolted by his actions, and on the other, I wasn’t going to let it bring me down or make my character change based on this one encounter. Geoff, what are you talking about?
What am I talking about? Yes.
Nerves, blood vessels, the psychology of modern man, thoughts related to actions, and actions related to words. I’m talking about bearded men kissing each other in public as a means of shocking the squares. I’m talking about hiring a stripper to be your naked slave for a half hour; she could have been the girl in high school you really had a crush on but were too unpopular to get with, and now that you have a job and lots of money, status in life, and have gotten thinner, she’s totally in to you and someday you could have sex with her and make an adolescent fantasy come true. But she got the facts wrong, she was his ex-girlfriend, not his high school crush – she was Asian; he didn’t like the feelings he got in his pants when two chapped lips overhanging with hair touched. He wasn’t ashamed, he just didn’t know what to do. Where’s the vagina? Oh… that doesn’t work with me. The saliva, the voices, the sensitivity of the skin… smelly… I don’t think this is going to work with me.
The damn cat is my only friend in this world. Yeah, you best leave the scene. Just be alone.
October 17, 2009
October 16, 2009
What am I going to do tonight? Since one of my friends bailed out on me again (for the second night in a row, no less), I have to reschedule my plans. I bought a bunch of CDs last night, used from Cheapo: Roky Erickson - “All That May Do My Rhyme,” Bernard Herrmann – “Music from: North by Northwest,” Bernard Herrmann – “Music from: Marnie,” Morcheeba – “Parts of the Process,” Jerry Goldsmith – “Music from: The Omen,” Nirvana – “In Utero,” and “Inglourious Basterds Motion Picture Soundtrack.”
Earlier today I finished my 2d homework, it took me a while, but I finished it. The school is very calm when it’s not busy… yeah. I took a lunch break and went to Chipotle, at a vegetarian bowl, and tried to figure out what was wrong with me. Earlier that morning I stood outside of my house at 3:33 am, smoking a cigarette, trying to fall asleep. Three hours earlier I was watching Where the Wild Things Are. I enjoyed the movie. Two hours before midnight I was sitting in the parking lot of Midway Pro Bowl, smoking a cigarette, acting the part of private detective. Twenty minutes earlier I was in a bar, inquiring into the whereabouts of a girl. I showed the bartender a picture of the girl, “Have you seen this dame around here recently?” I asked. “No, what are you, a private dick or something? We don’t want the likes of you around here. Get out!” “I’m not a private dick. She was my girl then she took off with all my money.” “I ain’t seen her face before.”
Inside I came alone, and I suppose that’s frowned upon. A “good looking” man all by himself. What’s wrong with this picture? I was enjoying my beer, minding my own business, when she asked me if I wanted to bowl for her. “I’m not wearing the right shoes.” “That’s okay, I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” “I’ll do my best.” “Um… okay.” “I’ll do my best to bowl a strike.” “I’ll remind you when it’s your turn.” “Fine.”
I was searching for a CD that had fallen onto the passenger’s side seat, I looked up, and I was moving closer to a stationary car in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and crashed into the bumper of the car in front of me. I put the car in park, turned down the music, and got out of the car. A woman stepped out of the passenger’s side, then the man exploded out of the driver’s side. “I can’t go but for two hours in a hired car before I get in an accident!” He was yelling in a British accent, he had a smug goatee, gapped teeth, and he was much taller than me. “Do you know that this is a hired car! What were you thinking?” “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry, ha! that’ll make up for it.”
That guy must have had a bug up his ass. Things moved too fast for me to remember or even care to recall, but he was upset, and I think this minute accident was just what he needed to explode at someone like me, a “thick american.” His wife, or whoever she was, calmly told me, “Everything will be all right.”
October 14, 2009
I am looking up to the sky for the other shoe to fall, she said to me. “You’re not enjoying the time that you have, this sudden success that’s due to hard work and perseverance. It’s paid off, you just need to keep it up.” But I don’t know how to keep it up. Add and rearrange some things in my life, include the presence of people, exclude others. I don’t know.
October 13, 2009
I remember when I found out about this band when I was living in the towers at Milwaukee, I stumbled upon this song by accident. My many hours spent on Limewire searching for music lead me to this song and this band, a Chicago outfit from the late 1960’s included Minnie Riperton before she went solo. Rotary Connection mixes grand orchestrations akin to The Fifth Dimension, with a gentle explosion of psychedelia/funk/soul/jazz to make their sound that, I think, personified an era.
October 11, 2009
You know what you do in situations like these? You find ways to uplift and enlighten the senses, the mind, the intellect, the soul. Of course it’s quite obvious what you are lacking, and do you believe you have come to terms with this? Certainly there is more to life than what you have learned, and what people present to you as truth? Yes, you have figured these falsehoods out already, and although you know far more than you should, you realize it’s not the end.
They are not right, nor are they wrong. You are not right, you are not wrong. Simply, you live by a different code. Their code is a very complex way of living, indeed, which is not to say that your way of living is any less complex. Different strokes for different folks.
“I believe that it may happen that one will succeed, and one must not begin to despair, even though defeated here and there; and even though one sometimes feels a kind of decay, though things go differently from the expected. It is necessary to take heart again and new courage. For the great things are not done by impulse but by a series of small things brought together. And great things are not something accidental, but must certainly be willed.” – Vincent Van Gogh
