I've spent a lot of time looking back on the last ten years of my life, lately. I've been taking a lot of time to analyze myself and attempting to see how much I've changed and to what capacity -- to what end. Have I become a better person? Have I evolved in some instance? Am I just a bitter, self-loathing, son-of-a-bitch?
I don't know. But, in an attempt to cover some of the huge multitude of tangents in such a self-investigation, I give you some of my self exploration through the words of Tool's "Schism":
I know the pieces fit because I watched them fall away Mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing, Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so We cannot see to reach an end crippling our communication
Relationships. There were so many moments where I look back and see them slowly crumble because the girl and I slowly crumbled. We'd get together due to some shared moment, and because we both failed at communication, we fell apart, no matter how intense the flame between us was. I think that my counterparts and I would grow to hate each other for things that came up in our relationships -- things we'd let pass, tattered thoughts or moments which we weren't comfortable with, or complete misinterpretation of each other. We'd break down in an aggression of bitterness which still may or may not last to this day. It is incredibly sad to look back on these events and times, because these moments aside, we still were - on some level - still highly compatible to a rich extent.
I know the pieces fit because I watched them tumble down No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over. To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication
I can't blame anyone in a failed relationship except myself. Wait, I take that back. I can blame any number of people or factors, but the only ones that I can be held responsible for rest on my shoulders, and mine alone. The bonds we once held so dear are now tattered and torn, but it doesn't mean I am glad about that. Now, I live with few bonds, and as so many more are crumbling, I really try to "bring the pieces back together", as Maynard James Keenan has said.
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between, And the circling is worth it. Finding beauty in the dissonance
There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting I've done the the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing Doomed to crumble lest we grow, and strengthen our communication
I've been doing what could amount to burying the hatchet with a number of people. I'm not sure. I'd love to say so, but since some of these interactions are heavily alcohol-induced, I'm really not sure what was said, done, or otherwise noted. Such is the life of a practicing alcoholic. It's funny though, the amount of self-reflection these moments give. So much that I'm thinking of opening a record store ala Rob Gordon, just so I can listen to the Beta Band or sell Stiff Little Fingers albums to Sara Gilbert.
Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion
I've written about a lot of the pretty things I've seen in my life, I suppose. At least, I think I did. I may be just lazy enough to not look through my content. At any rate, I've experienced a lot in my life (I'd like to think), but nothing is more satisfying than experiencing the sensual qualities of a woman.
I find the soft curves of a woman to be amazingly sensual. I dig women of all types, and find many attractive be they big or small, as long as they have confidence and are comfortable with themselves and I. I can see some amazing erogenous zones a woman might normally hate or want to hide. Allowing my hands to glide over her soft body is amazing foreplay, or even an entire erotic session.
I love slowly tracing a woman's shoulder up her neck with my fingertips, only to lean in and kiss her right behind her ear, enjoying the moment as she takes a deep inhalation of excitement.
It's the tiny details that my mind seems to try to retain, as if they are more meaningful than the larger acts which occur in an intimate moment. That simply astounds me. Looking back over previous relationships, I remember small things like stands of hair in front of her face, or the way her eyes closed and her eyebrows raised in anticipation of my touch. Sometimes, it's how her body was positioned and the nuances of a naked body and its positions in the intimate moment.
Why would I remember these details more than anything else?
I just spent like two hours looking for a couple of old computer games I wanted to play. I found one, but not the other. In the process I found another game I wanted to play and three CDs I hadn't added to iTunes again. Then miraculously, I moved a couple papers on my desk, and there was the last game.
I hate that. I tore apart three rooms to find it, and it was on my bloody desk.
A blonde decided to redecorate her bedroom. She wasn't sure how many rolls of wallpaper she'd need but she knew her blonde friend Sharon from next door had recently done the same job and the two rooms were identical in size.
"Sharon." she said, "how many rolls wallpaper did you buy for your bedroom?"
"Ten," answered Sharon.
So the blonde bought ten rolls of wallpaper and did the job, but at the end she had two rolls left over.
"Shar," she said, "I bought ten rolls of wallpaper for the bedroom, but I've got two left over."
"Yeah," said Sharon. "So did I."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There were three girls in high school, they were all best friends and their moms were all best friends as well, one mom was blonde, one mom was brunette, and the other had black hair.
So one night, the moms are all sitting around talking, and the Brunette says, "I found a cigarette butt in my daughter's trash can, I can't believe she smokes."
The mom with Black Hair looks over and says, "Well, I found a beer bottle in my daughter's trashcan I can't believe she drinks."
Then the blonde thinks for a moment and says, "I found a condom in my daughter's bed, I can't believe she has a dick."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A very successful lawyer parked his brand-new Lexus in front of his office, ready to show it off to his colleagues. As he got out, a truck passed too closely and completely tore off the door on the driver's side.
The lawyer immediately grabbed his cell phone, dialed 911, and within minutes a policeman pulled up.
Before the officer had a chance to ask any questions, the lawyer started screaming hysterically that his Lexus, which he had just picked up the day before, was now completely ruined and would never be the same, no matter what the body shop did to it.
When the lawyer finally wound down from his ranting and raving, the officer shook his head in disgust and disbelief.
"I can't believe how materialistic you lawyers are," he said. "You are so focused on your possessions that you don't notice anything else."
"How can you say such a thing?" asked the lawyer.
The cop replied, "Don't you know that your left arm is missing from the elbow down? It must have been torn off when the truck hit you."
"My God!" screamed the lawyer. "Where's my Rolex?"
So denied, so I lied Are you the now or never kind? In a day and a day love I'm gonna be gone for good again
Are you willing to be had? Are you cool with just tonight? Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
Here's to the nights we felt alive Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry Here's to goodbye tomorrow's going to come too soon
Put your name on the line Along with place and time Want to stay, not to go, I want to ditch the logical Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
Here's to the nights we felt alive Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry Here's to goodbye tomorrow's going to come too soon
All my time is froze in motion Can't I stay an hour or two or more Don't let me let you go Don't let me let you go
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
Here's to the nights we felt alive Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry Here's to goodbye, tomorrow's going to come too soon Too soon
Here's to the nights we felt alive Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry Here's to goodbye tomorrow's going to come too soon ~ Eve 6, "Here's to the Night"
I've got the PC up and running again, but it feels so empty and useless -- as if it's very makeshift, only to potentially allow me web access and sync the iPod for magical, musical goodness. I swear, I think the iPod is one of my all-time favorite toys. I'm getting the travelling bug again, and I'm counting the days till I bolt from the Detroit area and hit up Tampa, Grand Cayman, and Cozamel. I've got a lot to do before I jet from town, though. I need to get the car insurance taken care of, get some new clothes, and ship off some gifts which are a) overdue Xmas gifts and b) birthday gifts. God, I'm such a slacker. I also need to make some phone calls to people regarding the non-heating hot tub, as well as chatting up some people I haven't talked to in quite a while. I can't forget time to workout either, because I don't think the diet can do much more for me unless I start busting my ass to trim the pounds off. I won't be fit for the cruise, but hell. It's still good motivation to go for the gusto.
There's a lot which has come up in the past month or two which has been givng me a lot to think about these days. It's one of the many reasons I'm anxious to sit on that ship and look out into the Atlantic Ocean. I can really clear my mind and straighten out all of my thoughts. There's something about the ocean air which refreshes the mind. At least I'm really figuring out what I want out of life in order to be happy. After all, that's all I really need in life. To be happy.
My opinion could change today, but I'm responsible anyway For second or third hand information That complicates the complication And I don't think before I speak And I don't know how far my words reach So wrong nearly every time, that I'm sorry I speak my mind If what I said was unkind Now it feels like I'm on fire It?s burning the world through But don't hold it against me, 'cuz I know you're lying, too Is there any need for apology? There's no reason to believe me Judgments born in my jealous mind, creeping inside outside Connections I've made never follow through And sooner or later disappoint you Or cross you twice when your back is turned, that's how I've learned That someone has got to be burned Now it feels like I'm on fire, these words are not the truth But don't hold it against me, 'cuz I know you're lying, too Feels like I'm on fire, it's burning the world through Don't let me fall without someone to hold on to Someone to hold to, someone to hold on to
"The person who fears loneliness is the only person who pays attention when a stranger walks down the street."
The above statement is the finale of a twenty minute conversation I had with my old pal, Matt, last night on AIM. He's been trying to motivate me to get back into writing. I think it might prompt me to write a bit. I've got a couple of visual projects in the works, thanks to finding some old writing. I don't think I'm the writer anymore. I'm more of the technical guy. But, I'm okay with that.
I've had a lot to think about lately -- pretty much all the nouns. (persons, places, things) I'm trying to develop good physical and mental health, and it's been an interesting ride so far. I'm trying to stick to this health kick as long as possible. I just wish the weather would warm up so that I could do more, like ride my bike and start working on improving my property. It's very odd to be itching to mow the lawn.
In other news, my phone crashed this morning. I managed to get it working again, but I lost everything. I managed to restore my ringtones and phonebook from my past backup in early March, and through chat logs.
I should really make a list of all the things I need to do, short and long term.
And I need to buy a Wii. Like now.
One last thing: Why the hell did NBC cancel the Black Donnellys? That was one of only TV shows which got me to tune in weekly. I'll miss it.
Isn't that badass? I'll admit, I dig ALW's Jesus Christ Superstar. I do. It's fun musically, and I'm always intrigued by how different groups take care of the crucifixion and ascension in to Heaven. It also helps to have a pimp-ass Judas. Because well, if you don't have a pimp-ass Judas, your production will fail. Yes, I do mean that Judas is more needed in this instance than Christ -- the title character.
If I were to cast a production of JCS, I'd definitely have to give the title role to John Turturro, simply to make myself laugh.
One day, there was a catastrophic event that caused all living creatures on Earth to die. To sort things out, everyone went to heaven.
God came and said, "I want the men to form two lines. One line for the men who ruled their women on Earth and the other line for the men who were ruled by their women. Also, I want all the women to go with St. Peter." With that said and done, the next time God looked, the women were gone and there were two lines.
The line of men who were ruled by their women was 1,000 miles long, and in the line of men who ruled their women, there was only one man. God became angry and said, "You men should be ashamed of yourselves. I created you in my image and you were all whipped by your mates. Look at the only one of my sons who stood up and made me proud. Learn from him! Tell them, my son, how did you manage to be the only one in this line?"
The man replied, "I don't know, my wife told me to stand here."
Kids having sex in school. Okay, that I can cope with. They are being risky. They weren't the first ones to ever have sex in school.
Sex in front of other students?
Okay, I can cope with that too. Exhibitionism and voyeurism at work.
The sex was involving a twelve year old boy, a thirteen year old boy, and two eleven year old girls?
WTF!?
Does this seem right to anyone? I know kids are developing faster these days and supposedly more mature (or so the media portrays in television), but holy hell! I had the technical aspects understood at that age, but the thought of even having sex? In front of other students, no less?
Jackie Chan using a stunt double? Okay. The dude will be 53 on Saturday. I understand that there's a breaking point for how much action or stunt action a man can do before actually worrying about his health. And the article does point out that having one can help for insurance purposes... Then again, you don't have to always USE said stunt guy.
As an amusement park enthusiast of sorts and a geek, this video astounds me:
It's a really accurate recreation of Disney/MGM's Tower of Terror ride, all done with the Half-Life 2 engine. I am extremely impressed, since this was the only ride which impressed me at Disney's California Adventure. The effects were awesome and I love that they actually recorded the audio from the ride and put it into the recreation.
I have this friend of mine. It's the illustrious Stepho.
"The Stephinator" and I met on an online bulletin board called MoonBored. While she was one of the resident hotties (ie good looking female members), she was also wise beyond her years and had some crazy crack wit. The first time I met Stepho in person was at a New Years Eve party in Lorain, Ohio. We hung out and had some good times until she had to take off.
The next time I saw Stepho was on May fourth of 2002. She provided me with a couch to sleep on in Youngstown while I was doing my first coaster trip of the year. We spent a few hours sitting and talking. This then led to more frequent visits once she moved to Elyria, Ohio.
Steph's been a fantastic friend with an amazing head on her shoulders. (although, as she is dubbed the "Saucy Red Temptress", one can safely assume she's quite attractive too.) She's incredibly wise, practical, and someone who would gladly shiv someone for a friend.
Stepho is a strong person in the face of adversity. (...even if her fists of fury barely registered more than a chuckle on a cold October day at Cedar Point...) Steph managed to stay stronger than I could have ever thought when she faced health issues and subsequent organ transplantation. Very few people in my life have experienced everything that she has, and she still presses on -- a leader armed with knitting needles, schnapps, and a couple kitties.
She's a proud parent of her kitties and pup (Louise, Jerome, and Steve, respectively), a proud parent of sorts to her husband, Garvin, and a wonderful chef. She's a hard worker and dedicated to her friends and promises, as bitter as some of them can make her. She still finds time in her busy schedule to blog and take photos, over at ActionFigureStepho.com.
Steph's an amazing friend, and someone I feel I can trust all my worldly secrets and bits of knowledge with. She is my Keeper of Records (as I am of hers), and I'm glad to have met her and had her show me everything in her world.
Stepho, my friend, I am honored to know you. This is just a small mention of everything that makes you rock. Stepho, much love and rock! Rock on!
