seeking freedom beneath a lonely desert sun 

three hundred sixty five days ago.

and my life understandably hasn’t quite been the same since.

  • 7.22.2005

    who can face the knowledge that the truth is not the truth? 

    warning: this post blatantly assumes there is an all-powerful deity in control of everything. sure, this is going to sound suspiciously like a bitch-fest, and it will read like a bitch-fest. i assure you; it is basically a bitch-fest.

    a few years ago, i pretty much gave up on praying for specific things in my life, and instead focused on praying simply that God’s will be done. after all, it seems questionably ridiculous to hope for something that isn’t already a part of the divine scheme. it’s pretty much why the lord’s prayer includes the line “thy will be done.” that’s kinda the whole point.

    as such, i accordingly altered my prayers, and for some odd reason (maybe in a show of blind faith, or sheer idiocy), i always end this prayer with “no matter what that may in fact mean, and the ability to peacefully accept it.”

    well, our kindly creator must actually take that shit deliberately, because circumstance just happens to dictate that the bullshit that is my life must be a total annoying mess at all fucking times. at least the winds of fate were kind enough *not* to deposit me as a dehydrated sack of bones in some shit-hole third world country, or some other inanely wrong or fucked up situation. no, i am blessed with the pleasant fortune of having only half of everything work out in my life, as a gentle reminder that though i struggle painfully to reach the other half, it will always loom out there, tempting me forever just slightly beyond my grasp as i angrily curse the bad while neglecting to acknowledge all of the good.

    therefore; it is God’s will that i remain perpetually confused and eternally unfulfilled. bloody fucking brilliant.

    even though my words are constantly being put to the test (it’s a given that i fail – miserably), somehow, i still naively manage to always end my prayer with the personal acceptance of the knowledge that in all likelihood God’s will has nothing to do with what i actually want, and a humble request for the strength of mind that i can be ok with that.

    who knows? maybe this shit is all working towards building character and to forge a better person from the half-assed attempt that currently is me…

    or, maybe it’s not.

    I’m guessing i gotta wait until i die to figure that one out, and if the past is any helpful indication, methinks i’m gonna be waiting a long time before i finally get the answers i so desperately seek.

  • 7.19.2005

    suddenly, you were gone; from all the lives you left your mark upon 

    as i mentioned in a prior posting, sometime during my second to last trip to the city of angels, i managed to lose the earbud headphones to my iPod. the iBuds, you might say. i’m kinda curious as to how it might have happened too, since i had those in my pocket when i spent the night at monica’s, and i am fairly sure that i still had them with me as i drove off to craig’s place and spent the next several days there. but after that…. i’m not really sure what happened to them.

    i refuse to believe they simply fell out of my pocket just at random someplace, because i have carried those things in various pockets for the past two years and had yet to have any problems with them falling out unless i reclined in an odd position or somehow ended up hanging upside down by my ankles once again.

    which is why losing them is digging at me so much. sure, i could just drive on over to the nearby apple store and drop yet another forty bucks that i somehow didn’t really need in an effort to satisfy replacing something i already had, but there was a certain degree of sentimentality attached to that particular pair. they and i had been through a lot.

    since the majority of my work shifts at the hotel as an a/v technician a couple years ago were spent waiting for meetings to either commence or conclude, i had a lot of free time to kill, and those interims were filled rather nicely by various different musical selections. if i knew i didn’t have to directly interact with any clientele, audioslave, u2, or dave matthews band would uninterruptedly serenade me and help divert my mind off of the spirit-crushing apathy that i developed at that job as i moved from room to room, striking and setting equipment.

    especially when i transferred to a different property, a smaller hotel with just a few meeting rooms to attend and preside over, the iPod came in supremely handy since those long hours of solitaire would have been eight times duller were i not able to listen to steely dan or pat metheny and lament my station in life.

    most importantly, they were the headphones that monica and i shared on that first night together in albuquerque almost a year ago, sitting on the ratty-ass old couch in the harvard house, listening to rush (the band) and later playing an entertaining game of “identify that 80’s tune.” i have listened to music through them over distances of thousands of miles, from boston to california and everywhere between. those headphones and myself have had quite a history.

    which is why i am rather irate that they now have silently vanished. sure, the drivers were nearly blown from having had music pumped at way too high a volume through them, the cord had a film of grime over it due to being subjected to the messy working conditions at the hotel, and all the lettering and markings had been worn off, but damnit.

    i miss them.

    sad to say it; but you just wasted your time by reading an entire post composed about me grieving over a piece of plastic. yes, i am pathetic enough to develop deeply obsessive relationships with even the material possessions that i encounter. ain’t life grand that way?

  • 7.18.2005

    cruising in prime time, soaking up the cathode rays 

    chill motherfucker status has returned.

    yesterday i got another full body massage. i should be good for a couple more days, at least.

    time to bump some linkage. go check out my buddy masato's new blog, where he takes a walk on the edge.

    leave him much comment love.

    and stay tuned for more...

  • 7.17.2005

    don't surround yourself with yourself; move on back to squares 

    tuesday afternoon i completely lost it. all gone. no more sanity left. all common sense took the money and ran for the border and reduced me to a trembling, screaming, object throwing, tyrannous lunatic.

    part of it had to do with my computer consistently locking up inexplicably several times daily (the culprit is likely residual damage held over from when my power supply decided to celebrate the fourth of july a tad early back in february). part of it was related to dealing with a woman who continually hides behind the excuse of neurosis and hormones to explain away her dizzyingly irrational behavior.

    but part of it just had to do with my needing to get laid once again.

    not wanting. my body has progressed far beyond a physical desire; this has become a critical mass scale full blown crisis.

    i got fairly close on thursday night; at least my fingers managed to snake a little action anyway when a girl i’ve known for a couple years came over to watch clerks and snuggle afterwards. as we later discussed after the fact, even though i would really like to get it on with her, it is probably for the best that we avoid such potential regret. her mind is in a totally different place at the moment and has her heart stuck on another man that doesn’t happen to be me, and as for myself, i’m all so fuckered that i’ve been considering once again the option of chopping my nutsack off and becoming a eunuch since masturbation rarely ever anymore provides the carnal satisfaction that i crave.

    wow. i am so sure you came here to read up about my contrived libido. :-P

    but she did bring me a kickass homemade brownie. score! :-)

    fairly quickly after the melt-down on tuesday i regained my formerly graceful and dignified composure; while it certainly indeed does suck for any poor souls who happen to find themselves within close range during my obnoxiously decadent explosions, i hafta admit that my mind immediately experiences this harmonious release of endorphins in some sort of sick reward for having bottled up my anxiety so tightly. it is quite euphoric and ultimately calms me back down to where i can begin comprehending the world in terms that don’t involve me stalking through suburban areas heavily armed with destructive instruments of deadly firepower.

    friday night sucked at work. on that note, j.k. rowlings can go kiss my pasty non-existent ass. the marketing wisdom that deemed midnight a somehow appropriate time of day (er, night) to release the latest chapter in the harry potter saga also ended up being responsible for the gigantic throngs of children all adorned in wizard gear in search of iced blended coffee beverages between eleven pm and twelve as they excitedly anticipated the printed continuation of their favorite be-speckled magician-in-training.

    this group of juvenile literary idols oddly mixed with the drunk/stoner crowd that normally filters in around that time of night as overflow from the clubs in the area. i question the logic behind parents who allow their pre-teen daughters to fraternize in the vicinity of drunken horny college-aged males, but i suppose that anything goes now in this newfound age of dodgy responsibility. throughout the night i anticipatorily predicted a recipe for disaster; my fears proceeded thankfully unfounded.

    in some ways, i really do enjoy working the closing hours at the store on weekends. there is this peaceful winding down as the evening sees to it that people begin disappearing back to their homes or other private parties and the streets eventually become totally devoid of any activity. with the exception of a few idiotic motorists who naively assume the burlingame police officers on duty in their rollers around the corner won’t take offense to wrecklessly alcohol induced maniacal civilian attempts at driving, there isn’t hardly anybody around by the time we have finished all of our duties and establish that the store is fit for the morning crew to resume our capitalist conquest of world domination a few hours later when they swagger in half-rested.

    but one of the things that tends to get on my nerves (and believe you me, i am perturbed most easily) is the abundance of couples that parade by our windows on their way towards the nearby dance floors as i briskly slosh a mop back and forth throughout the store after locking all the doors and securing the condiment bars. while i am able to accept the fact that yes, i am my own person and whoopee, i should be entirely thankful for that or whatever, i can’t help but become more enraged by the fact that every man that walks by has some trophy hottie hanging off his arm. drunk or sober; all these women seem to be deeply committed (at least, at first glance anyways) to their guy, and hang off of him as if letting go for even a split second would spell their almost certain doom.

    and i really want to know this; just where in the fuck is my trophy hottie? where is my beautiful woman to flaunt about and make single losers insanely jealous with?

    apparently, so far i know this much for an answer… she’s for damned sure *not* right here in my bedroom presently, appreciatively aiding in the pursuit of ridding the ongoing sexual frustration that plagues me on an almost endless basis.

    thank God i was gifted with such a nefariously one track mind.

    although at the moment, that one track mind is currently undergoing an annoying distraction from the migraine that more or less feels like a giant metal stake being forcibly driven into my skull. if you’ll excuse me, i’m gonna go pass out and wait for the pain to subside before gathering any more thoughts and possibly amplifying the mental anguish.

    even though technically *any*time my brain is functioning (which isn’t quite as often as you might reasonably assume) could qualify as little more than mental anguish.

    but let’s not get too analytical about it, k?

  • 7.12.2005

    making arrows out of pointed words, giant killers at the call 

    note to self: the next time i am want for increased comment traffic on my site, posting controversial shit that will piss people off seems to garner results.

    with that musing out of the away, i am genuinely interested to see who all is left in my audience after the ruckus i kicked up with that last entry.

    and while this would normally be the point in time where i would shamefully extend my apologies to anybody who took offense to my rather arrogant and hurtful post…. i’m afraid i just cannot do that. while it may suck for some people to read that and reflect upon what my current perspectives may be, i can assure you that the turmoil i am feeling deep inside of me is about ten thousand fold worse. and to retract it and say that there is no hurt in my life right now would be an absolute lie. all i can hope is that those who are put out by my words can write them off as just more bullshit from an annoying dumbass.

    suffice it to say, i am beginning to understand just what it *might* feel like to carve open my body, insert a power drill, and commence madly tearing my internal organs into tiny bitty pieces.

    if i wasn’t so damned sure that i would shatter every last bone in my hand, i would have punched the wall by now. my fear of the negative consequences that would result from my releasing the unholy anger welling deep within me ends up making me considerably angrier by the fact that i have positively no outlet whatsoever for getting rid of this mounting frustration.

    last night after dinner, dad announced that he was going out for a walk. just before he made it through the door, i jumped up, grabbed the iPod (had to use my big-ass headphones since i *lost* my earbud headphones the second to last time i went down to la), and headed out after him. even though he took a relatively short route, i wasn’t quite ready to go back into the house, and instead continued along solo at a brisk pace throughout the neighborhood as i listened to the rest of presto by rush.

    my mind has no shortage of things to mull over lately. it’s been rather taxing on me mentally, and quite frankly i am starting to vote in favor of having a .22LR shell bring an end to the misery. not that i would actually blow my brains out mind you, since as i alluded before, i am a coward and can’t do anything constructive to resolve my predicaments. but something has gotta give, and i fear that my sanity is about to dissolve as madness rapidly envelopes me.

    *insert two rather inconvenient computer lock-ups right here, the second lock-up happening immediately after rebooting from the first lock-up*

    all right. that’s it. i fucking have had it. even my goddamn computer hates me.

    i give up.

  • 7.10.2005

    empress of the hidden face 

    various tidbits of wisdom that through personal experiences and the experiences of friends, i have managed to gleam regarding the women-type of the human race during my life so far:

    men are apparently responsible for menstrual cycles. and weight gain. and women’s low self esteem… ad *nauseating*

    most (if not all women) feel the pressing need to “find” themselves at some point in their lives. interestingly enough, this desire conveniently arises fairly shortly after they have interacted with me. i’m not sure exactly what they expect to find however, because the one time i “found” myself, i instantly realized just why the fuck it was lost to begin with.

    nice, sympathetic, and sensitive men are what most women “claim” they are looking for. roughly translated, this means they seek a guy who verbally assaults them, beats the shit out of them, forgets anything and everything that is vitally important to them, has absolutely no interest in who they are or what they like, and fucks other women (usually their best friends) behind their backs.

    if the limited sampling i have been exposed to is any indication of the general populace, every woman believes there is something fundamentally wrong with them and that they are completely undeserving of myself specifically, more or less implying that i am immaculately perfect and destined for someone “better.”

    unless of course all of that is a total lie.

    (and just who among us has ever encountered a woman that lied?)

    when a woman asks you about her weight, you say not one damned thing. ever.

    regardless of what they may state or imply, the sex was probably never any good.

    one must assume that the phrase “i just don’t want a relationship right now” technically (but rarely) is supposed to end “with you.”

    after a woman has made up her mind, you might as well piss away any logical counter-argument. it does you no good to challenge or question their final judgment, regardless of whether or not they are actually correct...

    any woman who is seeking “mr right” should develop a relationship with me. not because *i* personally am mister right, but more so because the moment they kick my sorry ass to the curb is about the time they will meet the “real” mister right. so far, this has successfully worked for nearly all of the women i have dated. with results like that, i should market my talent and charge a fair bundle.

    the level of opportunities and experiences i am granted seem to expand with each woman i date, kinda similar to how a videogame character upgrades to more powerful weapons and stronger body armor the farther they advance. this means that at my current rate, i can look forward to meeting the woman who wishes to spend the rest of her life with me about five days before she expires from natural fucking causes.

    even the ugliest woman alive could find a man that would do nearly anything to be with her. internet porn exists as a result of the fact that there are millions of guys that have to make up for the fact that not a single woman gives a shit about them sexually.

    there are a number of affirming phrases for women intended to make them feel better about themselves, but ultimately these all have little effect since most women don’t ever actually take the words themselves to heart and follow through on the enlightened mentality offered within. the same goes with advice; very few women follow any reasonable suggestions since they stubbornly refuse to accept alternative solutions to problems.


    all women, no matter how convincingly the contrary may seem, are completely and utterly fucking insane.

    but then again…

    so are all men, too.

  • 7.09.2005

    *scenery change* 

    "why do we fall, master bruce?...... so we learn how to pick ourselves back up."

  • 7.07.2005

    like a pair of vagabonds who wave between two passing trains 

    as previously was stated before, my family and i were passengers aboard a civilian aircraft under the command of my younger brother en route to los angeles for the fourth of july.

    well, not all at once. there were too many people and bags to all travel down at the same time. at the uncomfortably early hour of seven am on monday, dad and i headed down interstate five through the central valley of the golden state to get a head start over the rest of the gang who were flying down after my sibling finished his opening shift at work. there was considerably more traffic in comparison to last year; sadly we didn’t enjoy the opportunity to cruise at nearly the same speed as we did three hundred and sixty five days prior.

    this meant we ended up reaching redondo beach sometime around one pm (arrival time would have been earlier were it not for several stops made along the way), and i began making calls to bring monica and craig up to speed as to how and when we were all meeting up.

    despite some freeway juggling and a brief unplanned visit to irvine, monica safely arrived at the house i was staying at, and we merrily took off to go walk down near the beach, enjoy some caffeinated beverages, check out some cool outfits, scrape dog shit off of sandals, and spend a couple hours talking about close to a zillion different things. the conversation and company was immensely enjoyable, yet as always, managed to pass us by far too soon. it seems like i never get enough time to spend with that woman. at this rate, if i ever actually *did* end up with monica romantically, it is likely that the remainder of my life would eclipse me so hastily, i wouldn’t even have a chance to be consciously aware of more than a quarter of it.

    once again my family pulled through at demonstrating stellar communication skills and failed to call me via cellular phone to notify monica and i that they were not only already at fatburger, but were practically done scarfing down their dinners. no matter… this gave monica and i yet more chance to share some private conversation (loud drunken assholes sitting near to us aside) after the proper introductions as the family and our other comrades headed down to the water to find a good spot on the beach in anticipation of the fireworks.

    craig caught up with us at around this time, and we got to the shore just in time to realize that there was a deliciously thick marine layer blanketing the entire coast. the majority of the fireworks show unfortunately was little more than brightly colored backlit clouds, but a good time was still had by all. if nothing else, we all got some decent satisfaction from the many witty quips we all came up with regarding the weather.

    various individuals from different stages of my family’s life were in attendance…. some like craig who has known us for more than ten years, as well as karen who’s been around for about eight or nine… yet others like pastor ken and rosie who have only known us for a couple years while they were living up here in nor cal, and of course the lovely miss monica who only recently entered the picture a little less than a year ago. it was interesting to see this array of associates all gathered together at once… it made me stop and think about all that has transpired over my life so far, and that if this group was a sampling of those whom i should be acquainted with for the rest of my travels, i am more than certainly blessed. as was pointed out by claire at one point, we manage to collect people throughout our adventures, and pretty much all of them have been around ever since.

    kinda funny.. the shit that goes through your head only at certain times. and cruel as it may have been, i took great joy in frightening monica by informing her that she’s now a part of our group, and can never escape. hehehe.

    after spending fifteen minutes in line at the coffee bean to receive mediocre service and less than stellar beverages only to be kicked out by the closing crew not even ten minutes after sitting down to enjoy such beverages, our entourage made its way over to claire’s real estate office in the riviera for some restroom breaks before we all split up in our respective directions.

    not wanting to part with monica at all, i managed to coerce her into driving me back to my lodgings and hanging out for a bit longer, even though she had work early the next morning to go get some rest for. with any luck, i may see her again in a few weeks if plans happen to align appropriately. mom and thurston headed off for home (they were driving back that night so that eric could make it to his afternoon summer course), and monica and i shared one last embrace before once again she and i parted ways. as i watched her car disappear over the hill i contemplated with a warm sadness that this is beginning to become a pattern.

    the next morning found dad, eric, our considerate host and myself sleepily partaking in a late morning breakfast at the original pancake house before picking up water bottles and snacks to take on the trip home. karen and her grandfather stopped by the torrance airport and hung out with us while eric finished up drafting his flight plan, and after waiting for the sky to clear up a bit more (it was still foggy and hazy) and refueling the aircraft, we took off northwards for home.

    trips like these leave me emotionally and physically drained, and i don’t suppose that it helped any that my digestive system was oddly having a total shit-fit, but i’d gladly enlist for way more of these good memories time and again..

    pictures and commentary regarding the flight back home will be coming soon…

  • 7.02.2005

    the most endangered species - - the honest man; will still survive annihilation 


    even though the crew that i worked alongside tonight for closing at our store were super awesome and we finished up a full half hour early, this time of night is nonetheless the period of my day that i enjoy the absolute least.

    don’t get me wrong; i am totally a night creature and dig the hours when most of humanity is intelligently procuring the rest they require in order to function properly. if i could truly have my own way, i wouldn’t spend hardly much time awake during the day at all, and would instead relish myself primarily in the house of the moon.

    but getting off work after midnight is an entirely different creature altogether. a giant mean nasty animal, with big clumsy claws and nappy matted hair.

    and did you see the size of his teeth?!

    (just don’t soil your armor in his sight)

    loving the nighttime and spending time at an occupation during the nighttime don’t even hardly compare. well, for the most part. as always, there exists *some* obscure exception to the rule, but i hardly think that an espresso shop counts. at any rate, there is one undying truth about late night shifts that easily can dampen any devout love affair with the hours during which darkness reigns over the land.

    this sole truth is that no matter how tired you may have been from having to force your body to adjust to the world’s unjust demands of operating in the daylight hours, you can never ever just go home and fall asleep after getting off work.

    at least not me. i think there has been a total of two instances in my life where i was so fuck-beat tired that i collapsed in a slag pile in my room and slept like a dog immediately after getting home from a job. all the other times (and believe you me, there have been many), my body demanded at least a few more hours of downtime to completely burn off any excess adrenaline that had been kicked out into my system while i was still on the clock.

    right now is one such time.

    and part of the reason i believe myself to be bi-polar (only, i cast doubts on the following hypothesis due to the fact that most clinical bi-polar affected individuals have little to no control over determining the times when they feel splendid, and when they feel like somebody pissed all over them and then lit their shoes on fire), is the vast differences between who i am at work and who i am when my body is readjusting to the civilian world.

    all throughout my day at work, i manage to usually pull this happy-go-lucky attitude (in the words of my co-workers) from some mysterious plane in my personae, and trudge through the majority of my shifts with some degree of pleasantness. it is almost a natural high; obviously my problems don’t go away, but i am able to overlook most of them for seven hours or so and focus solely on other stimuli (well, when we have steady business, anyways).

    but about five minutes into my commute home along the shadowed and empty thoroughfares, my own personal mr hyde comes to call. he sits and dwells with me until at last, several hours later, i am able to capture the sleep my body so desperately hunts and force him back into a submissive holding cell until he is presented with another opportunity to escape and roam free.

    before you jump to any horrifically negative conclusions, i can readily assure you – i most certainly am *not* rampaging madly through my township and ruthlessly slaughtering innocent citizens. nothing so criminally insane.

    however, this is about the time when all the shit floating about in my head (which explains my often horrid breath) begins to violently cascade about in random directions; colliding with delicate membranes and slowly building up an ugly layer of plaque in my mind, composed of the fallen neural victims of my own personal demons.

    this is when i suffer the most intense periods of self doubt and loathing; reflecting on all the fuck-ups and mistakes of the day and how once again, i probably managed to succeed in effortlessly alienating yet more of the general populace.

    i think about all the women who ventured into our store merely for beverages, and should have left with a handsome young catch like myself as well. how many flirts, how many missed opportunities… all the phone numbers not gathered, and the un-pursued “what-ifs.”

    second guessing life is generally a game i abhor, despite my uncontrollably obsessive fascination with uber-analyzing every last possible detail regarding everything and nothing about anything. but the dark side of who i am employs such deceptive trickery with ease; helplessly rendering me immobile to the evil forces that delight in gleefully ripping apart who i am into infinitesimally tiny shreds and adamantly refusing to allow the pieces to properly re-assemble.

    these are the moments where i feel truly alone, and powerless in the world to discover a sense of control over my life. when all i can focus on is how impressive a failure i am, and how regardless of what i do, fate is something i can never hope to evade.

    right now, a part of me is screaming vainly in sheer terror throughout my head.

    and nobody can hear it.

    or ever will.

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