Don't care. Not tonight.

I just need to vent. If you aren't in the mood, that's fine. Just move along.

Preface: Decided (unwisely so) to view ex girlfriend's profile page, specifically pictures. And such. Whatever. If Facebook isn't for stalking, then I don't know what its for. Anyhoo. Here I am looking at 650 picture of her life, 1/4 were close to my existence with her.

*So, looking at these flashes of time held in freeze forever-more, I see why we didn't work. I know hwy we aren't together. I see the difference in our personalities through our Facebooks (as superficial as it seems). I see her smiling, constantly posing. In mine, I see my usual forced smile. In candid situations turned photo opp. Sure, her's might be forced. But she puts up 6x as many pictures as I do. I exist on the frige of the society. She flourishes in the center. This is seen in the pictures. I'm sure it also had to do with attractiveness in reality and photo, but I see that some people avoid the camera, where others are pulled to it, and others it to them. She is an 'it to them'. Cameras flock to her. She is photogenic in every sense of the word. I've never seen her unattractive. Whatever that means. She exists in front of the camera. I exist watching the group. I've steer clear of groups. Strangers. Cameras. If I know I'm being photographed, I feel I won't look sincere in the picture. I'm on the outside looking in. She's on the inside posing for the picture. Part of me wishes we were more similar, because we once felt such a connection.

I know there is meaning behind these picture. Somewhere, hidden in the deep of the artificial poses and funny faces.
She has a new beau. He seems dorky and intelligent, to be stereotypical. Probably not what she initially saw in me. She did see it, but not when we met. She saw me as the 'rebel'. How I got that reputation, I wish I knew. Then I could have maintained it.
She always had this thing about race. She was ethnic. I was not. She had to preserve her culture. I had no culture to preserve. I needed to better myself to become a worldly person, and learn from her ways. We were opposite. And she didn't let me forget that. I over-exaggerate, but probably not by that much.

I look back and wonder what might have happened. I never meant to break up with her. It was a power play. I wanted to feel like I meant something to her. Like I was worth her admiration. But I wasn't. I gambled one time too many. And she was gone. Almost on to the next guy. At the young age of 22-ish, I see this as without a doubt, the most difficult time of my life. Love does that to you. I learned a lot about myself dealing with her, and the lack of her.

I do miss her. I miss the similarities that brought that initial connection. I miss having her, the way she doted over me, and looked over me. But as I think of these romanticized things, I realize that she was always trying merely to please me, and wasn't doing for any other reason, and that she wanted me to be different form who I (think I) am. It a difficult situation. I wonder if she was ever as haunted by the relationship as I am. I truly doubt it. She was never one to allow anything thing to mark her. But that fact never stops me from thinking. The 'what-ifs' really get to me some nights.

There is always more, but I just can't bring myself to it right now.



*Please note, all comments come in retrospect, and have no bearing on the time when they were experienced.

Entropy

I sit here in an apartment that within a month, I will likely never sit in again. I look at a view that has remain unchanged for that stretch. The skyline has become a friendly reminder. A reminder of the possibilities of moving to the bigger and better. Even the view within the apartment has remained similar. The same couches, TV, and window coverings. The same couches I have sat on, sparingly, for the last....2 years? Roughly. The same TV I have played many an hour of Xbox on. The windows that prevent video games on a sunny day between the hours of 5 and 7 pm. Excellent memories.
I've always viewed this place as a refuge in the storm, and it has been, quite literally once or twice. It's my vacation home, filled with good conversation and friends.
When I first met the place, I was wearing a red Hawaiian shirt, and sort of came up on a whim. I was sitting in B'lingham lonely, and decided to text some fun people I had met during Sasquatch. And then next thing I am walking up hill in the summer heat, into the apartment. Its a house to me, all technicalities aside. A clean white. The dinning chairs and table. The couch. The walls, all a pretty reflective white. I love this place, in a goal-oriented sense. I love the people in it. They have impacted me in a way I couldn't have imagined.
I will miss this place.

Francis and the Lights

I only have one song of theirs, 'Darling, it's Alright'. It has a distinct 80's sound reminiscent of Huey Lewis and the News. I dig. I have an evening to myself. Not that this is particularly special, but still, it's nice. Both my roommates have gone to bed early, and I have the living room to myself. Which will be fine until it gets dark outside and I start to feel lonely. But that is mostly the lack of sleep/The Fear talking.
It's weird to think about a day that you have known was coming, but never quite had the view point of it. Until now, now that you're close enough. You look forward to it. You are afraid of it. You want it to happen, you want it in your past, you want it perpetually in your future.
Those moments.
What to do?
Well, the only thing you can do. Raise your head up to meet the moment head-on. Stare into the future, the abyss, until it stares back. Then make the fucker blink.

The Paper in Question

For once I wish it was really nasty outside so it would be a more antiquate mood setting for writing a 15 page paper of what-have-you. Instead I will listen to N.I.N. and pretend with the shades drawn. I had this crazy epiphany the other day. There I was looking out the window while playing video games, and I see this Uhaul trailer. Then I realized that I too will be leaving soon. I mean, not leaving. Just relocating. But this time, I won't have a school to tie me down to an area. And as freeing as that sounds, it is equally ominous. Oh me and my fear of change, and appeal for the dramatic.
Anyways, finished Red Dead Redemption. Twas awesome. Finished all 4 seasons of Dexter. Twas awesome. Almost done with spring quarter. Twill be awesome. And Drunk History is amazing.

Late Night

Its raining outside. Not particularly hard, like it was earlier, but enough to hear it with the window open. I really do like the rain, despite complaining when my shoes get all wet. That's partially why I moved over to the west side of the state. The other being that my girlfriend at the time was over here, and really I wanted to go to Dub Dub U. Or atleast it was better than EWU or WSU in my mind.
That girlfriend and I were actually 'over' when I finally got an apartment in Bellingham. I just hadn't realized it yet. Difficult times ensued, making me question my presence on the wetter half of the state (dirrrty). I had a heart to heart with my dad that I really don't remember the specifics, but it made me feel better. And now here I am over 2 years later, able to talk about the experience in some clarity. Reviewing one's past is always an interesting voyage.
I've been listening to the soundtrack of the ShowTime series Dexter and it sets my late night/all night mood quite well. Daniel Licht does a great job on the mood setting.
While on the topic of Dexter I would like to mention what an engaging show it is. I've really been sucked into Dexter's world. I imagine this is how many people feel with their TV shows, but having watched almost all 4 seasons of the show in rapid succession, I seem to have that feeling on crack.

I'm pulling an all-nighter this evening because I can. I've been feeling better these past few hours, so I've decided to indulge in a binge of fun and work. And plus it's nice to sit in a house you know has people sleeping in it. I don't know why. I think Benjamin Button mentions something in his Curious Case about it.
Here is it: "Some nights, I'd have to sleep alone. I didn't mind, I would listen to the house breathin'. All those people sleepin'. I felt... safe."
Well put, good sir. Well put.

Winging it

This speaks to me.

Lack there of

So, long time no blog. It has been hectic here in Bellingham these last few weeks. Lots of trying to put off projects to the last minute to do a hurried job. Not to mention putting off getting various paper work filled out and such. Really, its terrible. TRRBL. I dislike very much the whole idea of being responsible. It really chaps my ass.
This brings me to a sweeping generalization: I feel that as a generation, my age group is not prepared to handle what the future holds, most specifically, the whole banking and financial process. We have a system that was designed to allow our parents to buy what they couldn't afford, and now the system is perfecting itself and aiming itself at the next generation. I don't mean to complain, I know that I should have paid more attention before signing. Its just something that now I, and many other college students, have to deal with.
To stick with my mental process, Red Dead Redemption from Rockstar Games is as good as they say it is. To break it down, its GTA with a cowboy theme. But everything seems improved. More ambient missions, more characters, more diverse map. Its great. Its really something definitely worth renting. And the soundtrack = superb. A particularly excellent song from the soundtrack is 'Far Away' by Jose Gonzalez. Just listen to it. You'll understand.
Back to cliche world, but the future is just as strange as ever. It holds promise, yes. But man, sometimes it just comes at you a lot faster than you expected.

Sunshine

Directed by Danny Boyle in 2007. Scored by John Murphy. I just watched this movie, after wanting to originally see it back when it released. I'm a sucked for 'Man vs. Outer Space' movies. And sci-fi in general. And then I watched this one, and it was so powerful. And I don't mean epic. Sure, some of the music fills you up and lifts you, but its just powerful. The whole film, so under-rated, but so good.

Beware: Alchohol and Sarah McLachlan

So, here I am sitting after drinking with friends. It was a great evening. I really am appreciative of those few people that I have come into contact with. And I don't mean that everyone I make small talk with I end up hanging out with. Seriously, I am so happy to have this most recent opportunity to hang out and be cool. And maybe talk sex for a moment. It was great. All of it.
But as you can tell by the first bit of the post, you can see that I am trying to get to some point. Today happens to be my ex's birthday. I wouldn't have realized this had not a mutual friend (not really) on Facebook made it her status. It was sort of forced upon me, in my defense. I didn't really think about it at all. Then I came home, and saw something that made me want to see her facebook page. Probably something that had nothing to do with her birthday, but it still peaked my interest. So I checked her page.
At least 50 birthday responses. Which is crazy huge. It just sorta blew my mind. Thinking about it a moment after, I realize that is about 10% of her friends, but still. I guess part of me just wishes that I had a large amount of people in my life that wished me happy birthday.

Now, if you made it through that first-half, please hang on, clearer skies are ahead. Thinking about it now, I see that the few people in my life tend to be genuine, or at least act that way toward me. I don't care which is which. I just appreciate those people in my life that notice me as much as I notice them. I have this amazing girlfriend, that I really wish was around more. She makes me so happy, and its wonderful. I have this great collection of friends that make my life more colorful. I have friends in Seattle that enlighten me of what it's like to be a non-Academian. I have friends in Cheney, WA that remind me about how nice it is to have someone appreciate you. I have friends two blocks down that make me see how fun a 40oz and a Wii can be. I really appreciate my friends, even if I don't show it enough as I should. I love you all.

Not Really About Me

It seems like I haven't blogged in a while. Maybe that's true. You would think I would blog more given more time, but instead I only seem to blog when I have other things to do. Which I imagine this says alot about my personality, but I really don't want to go into that or care.
Today I picked up a used copy of House of Leaves. This is a book that one friend holds in very high regards. I have also heard from people, far cooler than myself, that this is the "one book that REALLY scared me". And, I heard from a very influential teacher/friend that it was quite good. So, all things are going for it, minus the silly girl at the bus stop that was mocking the post-modern style for wasting paper. I wanted to defend it, but instead just listened, then decided that she had no idea what she was talking about.
This whole book thing got me thinking about my one-time mentor, so I tried emailing him. I have written to him twice so far, without answer. I do not know if my email is being blocked in his spam folder, if he has changed emails, or is avoid me entirely. I send emails anyways. I don't really write to people. I don't even really call people. I see them, or I don't. I'm sure there is a huge vault of psychological truth lying in these actions, but again, I fail at having the motivation to it (the vault). Anyhoo.
Classes have started, and again I am off to worlds that at first seem entertaining. We will see how that fairs.

Exhausted

I have no one to talk to right now, so instead I will attempt to blog the feelings out. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
So, my sister is slowly loosing memory. Not just short term, but long term too. Doesn't remember who people are, what she was doing. Nada. Scary as fuck. Honestly. I really don't know what to do. Then, it's finals week/dead week. So I'm currently riding a massive caffine binge case of the jitters, and tired. And realize that I'm not even close to done. I feel exhausted emotionally, mentally, and in a few hours I imagine, physically too. I just want my sister to be ok. Honest to God. And you know what? If the doctor says he can't find anything wrong, TELL HIM TO LOOK HARDER.

Scary

So, long story short, my sister hit her head. Hard. So hard, everyone thought it was a concussion. Then it wasn't. Then it was. Then it was sprained muscles. Well, whatever it is, I get a call from my sister in tears because she doesn't remember who I am. A few things here and there, but for the most part she doesn't remember me. Think about that. All of our past experiences are all gone. I am told that this is a temporary state, thank Hygeia/God/Nodens. This was the first time in my life I have ever been so sad. Or so I think. Maybe when my grandma died. But that was semi-expected. This? Not so much. Shes only 15. She really is a wonderful person. I can't express how much I love her, and miss her. With this whole experience, I just want to go home and hug her and tell her how important she is to me.

Random Thoughts

Katamari Demacy is creepy similar to the movie Slither.

I tend to sniff loudly to alert people of my presence.

I own a machete. You know, for zombie outbreaks.

I am strangely aware of my ever dropping number of "friends" on Facebook.

Where does social tolerance end and pariah begin?

My room is filled with 2/3 empty bottles of soda because that's all I wanted at the time.

Seeing my tattoo after forgetting about it makes me happy.

Please hang up the phone and

I find it to be so difficult to convey feelings in a non-relationship way sometime. If that comment shot up some red flags, don't worry, you aren't the only one. It's just, I want to express my gratitude for friendship to a fellow person, and I flop at getting across how much I appreciate them. Perhaps to some girl in my film class that talks to me and listens. I want to say "Hey, you're awesome, come have a beer, even though we are both seeing other people, and we aren't really friends outside of class!" But I feel that would be very long-winded, and hard to make not awkward. I just can't seem to convey to my friends how much they mean to me, and I know that is why I have so few. That, and the fact that I tend to get this weird quasi-blinders on that once a person isn't in my immediate life, I don't forget about them, but they tend to fade into the background. Basically I'm a terrible person. But I try.

Harmony Requires Sacrifice

Here I am, taking a weekend to drive across the state. Not to say I won't enjoy it. But there are moments, where I just can't wrap my head around some idea of being a good son. I mean, sure, every parent has certain expectations, but I think that my parents didn't expect anything from me. So therefor, I am a success. Which is really more of a default. I mean, looking at my sister as a freshman in high school, I see her as having exponentially more potential than I. Not to say I feel worthless. Far from it. I see my worth as novelty and sincerity, with a hint of the absurd. But she seems like she might one day, I don't know, cure cancer or create a just system of law.

However, I feel that once we start attaching worth to various traits, it's a weird way to view things. How much is this relationship worth? How much are my friends worth? How much are we worth to society? Quite frankly, I don't want to know. And I don't thing we should know. Imagine people walking around knowing they are worth nothing. TRRBL.

I would like to think you really can't figure out worth until the moment of worth. Sure, that kid who sits in the back of the room and doesn't talk seems like a waste, but wait until he makes that insightful comment. Or the moment when the seemingly ridiculously annoying kid gets a slot on a radio talk show, etc. Insert your own example here.

And don't even get me started on what it means to be "worth" something to society. Stupid society. And its "values". and "quotation marks".

Future Perfect?

I have been forcibly confronted more and more with the prospect of being a non-student. It is weird to look out on the vast horizon that is my future, and many landmarks are missing. I thought that once I graduated I could go bother my pals in Seattle more. But by the time I'm done, they are already off doing their thing.
I can't help but be nostalgic, sitting here listening to my Kung Fu Panda soundtrack. Not that it has a direct connection, but the melodies make me think of the things that were.
I've been a student my entire life. And I don't just mean in the cliche "You are always learning" bologna. I mean attending class and such. It's nuts to be on the outside of that. To be this....this 'adult' thing that everyone else talks about being.
I just really don't know what to expect.

Ode to Medea

At long last, I am finally able to articulate this seemingly irrational hate for all things her. It took me running into her annoying high school friend on campus that I was able to envision this inner tension. I hate that I gave so much, and you acknowledged it so little. I know I shouldn't be bitter, and I'm not. Or at least, I try not to be. But some moments, I get so caught up in myself, that I fall back into old habits.

Damn Paper

I have done nothing (mentally) but been plotting the eventual firing of a professor I am taking. 4 credits, and 300 level, and he wants 5-6 hours a week of our time, and ridiculous 3 ridiculous 12 page papers. With copious amounts of specific references to everything we have been watching. It sounds, from an outside perspective, that the paper would write itself. But you would be wrong. And really, I have other classes to be putting off. Honestly, I won't be pleased until his head resides on a pike in the parking lot of my apartment building.

.08

After watching Venture Bros, I have come to the realization that most cartoons that we watch as children are NOT funny. Not to say that there are some exceptions, but for the most part, they are in-fact adventure oriented. A character leaves town, and the episode begins. They do not alter to humor. They instead follow the idea keeping a 3rd grader's attention span. Nothing against any old TV show. Aahhh! Real Monsters. Kudos. Legends of the Hidden/Forbidden Temple. Good work. Angry Beavers, you still make me laugh. As a community of people who have grown up with cartoons, we need to realize that cartoons, as we knew them, were not intended to make us laugh as adults, but to make us watch as children.

In short: Angry Beavers rule. Don't download an entire seaon of a cartoon untill you know what you are getting into.

Change

Preface: This poem is not intentionally about any political party.

Change wasn't what I told it was. As I child I saw change as this force, this entity that strode through life usurping governments, and making people fall in love. It's what I feared when the Beatles sang about "Love has a nasty habit, Of disappearing overnight".
As I child, I didn't notice change because it didn't register. I didn't see things around me shifting from new to old. The gradual shifts from green to red to blue to orange. Change was a new television show advertised. What happened to the old shows? "What old shows?" I asked.
Most recently I have come to this conclusion that Change is the entropic force on life. It happens while we sleep, with freedom fighters preforming an act to gain standing in world politics. The change happens while we eat breakfast, with the Supreme Court allowing corporations to openly sponsor candidates. Change is not this fantasy idea that as children. These major shifts. It is the little that constantly moves. The grains of sand that each stacks upon the next. It is the water/pressure acting on the Earth that slowly makes (insert geologic phenomena here). Every second that ticks past, Change has happened. The inevitable. The idea that the person that started writing this post no longer exists, and that someone mildly new is replacing him. Like a computer system, with infinite updates leading to the eventual hive-mind of laptops and Xboxs everywhere.

A short recap: Change is not what we as children thought it was, but is none-the-less inevitable. And beware the Xbox uprising.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programing.

A new direction? Or just a blip in the old direction?

Anyhoo, this evening, I went with my roommate to an author talking about his book. I didn't know this author before, nor do I feel too inclined to read his book after. However, he did emphasize the idea that practicing, and mimicking, are important steps of the writing process. In lieu of his surprisingly inspirational presentation, I will try my hand at writing. I make no promises on things being totally false, or totally true, or even in-between the two opposites. I can only promise that I will write when I can, and about whatever I see fit.
Thus ends my mission statement, v.2