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These are my tombs painted black and blue

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(no subject) [Sep. 7th, 2008|04:36 am]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
The worst part about eating waffles from a paper plate is setting a bendable plate full of syrup in your lap.

Oh how sweet life would be if Vermont tree sap on the thighs of your jeans was the worst thing that could ever possibly happen.
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(no subject) [Aug. 21st, 2008|11:56 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
The worst part about being drunk is the knowledge that this feeling will start declining very fast. Now I understand why no one in their right mind is a cokehead. Too fucking fast to be enjoyable, unless you're rich and very well prepared.
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(no subject) [Aug. 19th, 2008|11:14 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
[Current Location |hell]
[mood |depressedbroken]

I used to actually use this. I used to actually have something to say. I wonder if they're connected?

I'm heartbroken. Nothing can fix that but myself. I'm mindbroken. Same deal. I'm broken. This is getting redundant. None of it feels fixable in the slightest.

Why does this feeling make for the best pop music ever written?
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A thought. Not mine. For posterity. [Jun. 25th, 2008|03:13 am]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
We don't understand what really causes events to happen. History is the fiction we invent to persuade ourselves that events are knowable and that life has order and direction. That's why events are always reinterpreted when values change. We need new versions of history to allow our current prejudices.
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(no subject) [Jun. 6th, 2008|08:54 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
[music |The Jesus & Mary Chain - Just Like Honey]

It's 9:00 PM, 87 degrees Fahrenheit, 52% humidity, and it's barely the first week of June. I have sweat pouring off of me in gallons, and because of the humidity it likes to stick around a bit.

Please excuse me while I face up to the fact that this is going to be the most miserable god damned summer that I've ever experienced.
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(no subject) [May. 20th, 2008|02:30 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
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Life as a locker room. [May. 1st, 2008|11:12 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
It's easy to lie to yourself and actually come to believe it. Surprisingly easy. I've gotten so good at selling myself timeshares and Amway that these days I don't even realize when I do it. I play it off that some harrowing experience or another made me a stronger person, or a more interesting person, or even a "real" person, but deep down somewhere I know that's bullshit. They just shaped the way that I lied to myself so as best to keep believing it.

If you bounce around enough you'll find yourself in the same situation. Moving from place to place and people to people did nothing but compartmentalize my life into little cubicles of memory. You may know where your old desk is, but something always prevents you from remembering just what your old job was really like. If you do this enough you just might lose track of all of it, occasionally killing your concept of reality and ego in the process.

I think that's what happened to me: I experienced (or regularly experience pieces of) ego-death. Through chemicals, sleep deprivation or just plain crazy I occasionally and accidentally disassociate enough to see everything as it really is, and you know what? It's really not a great prognosis. If all that was really was as it seems, then what's happening now and what's to come is arguably not worth active participation.

When I tell my stories people often ask if I miss the people, the places or the times, and my answer is always "yes", but the truth of it is that I think deep down I also miss myself. Myselves. My selves. I miss the exuberance, the uncertainty, the hurt and the ability to hurt and smile as easily as each of my many facades had at any of their given periods. I miss whatever I was. I think you probably do, too, but I'd never demand an acknowledgment there. It's not an easy thing to admit to.

Does this mean that my current life has no meaning? Not at all. The meaning hasn't set in yet, and I suppose there is a possibility that some day I will miss what I am and where I am at this exact moment. That doesn't make the feeling of being lost go away any faster, though.

I'm sorry, and I'm not. I doubt that's what anyone wants to hear, but it's the best I can do without crossing my fingers.
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I feel like I've been neglecting this thing but that's only because I've been neglecting this thing [Oct. 3rd, 2007|04:51 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
What's there to say? I could talk about my new an ultra shitty job, but I'd rather not. I could talk about my social life, but I'd rather not. I could talk about my family, but I'd rather not. I could talk about my living situation, but I'd rather not.

Nothing seems to be going positively for me, and yet I feel wonderful. I feel better than I have in years. Why is that? Mostly because I've stopped associating with every last person that I've deemed a spiritual vampire, for lack of a better term. I hate it when people say that they've given up on so and so, partially due to the fact that quite a few have given up on me, but I've finally started building some important boundaries and have been surrounding myself only with positive influences. It's done wonders for my general outlook and feelings on life.

In retrospect I should have done so years ago. All of that time spent ignoring what was right in front of my face and hoping that things would magically correct themselves could have been put to much better use. Though my life is extremely humble and not worth noting at the moment, I feel as though maybe I deserve more than I've been getting, and the only thing stopping me from getting it all is me. If that's the case then you better watch the fuck out, because here I come.

I don't know. This sounds stupid to me and reads like utter shit, but that's how it goes some times.
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Oh. My. God. (Not safe for work under any circumstances) [Sep. 18th, 2007|08:24 pm]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
[music |Jedi Mind Tricks - Get This Low]

So I found this video on the old youtubes, and I think my life may never be the same again:

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so... [Jul. 28th, 2007|07:27 am]
These are my tombs painted black and blue
[Tags|, ]
[Current Location |Jeff's upstairs attic. Heaven in Victorian square footage]
[mood |confusedconfused]
[music |Dead Poet's Society is on the TV if that counts]

I've been here for a week and have nothing to say. I didn't want that, but it's not like life is very debateable. So it goes.

I've given up my (admittadly very limited) artistic inclinactions. My hands suck, and I can't write without plagiarizing. I wish this disappointed me more, but it's something I've gotten used to at this point.

I'm in love with a computer. Jeff's iBook G4, specifically. I don't want another one; I want THIS one. It's gorgeous, which is my new calendar word of the day. This is how much I suck. That aside, I love it. Hardware wise it is what I'd want, and it's simple, pretty and reliable. What can I say? I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for RISC hardware.

I thought there would be more meaning to the day to day by this point. I really should stop being so hopelessly idealistic. It's very possible to be idealistic without being optimistic. I've never been the latter, 'cept the small bursts here and there.

I've started every bit of this whole update thus far with a capital "I". I'm just this vain at times. To break the cycle: Fuck you.

K. Thx. Bi.
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