Dec 31, 2:18-21 am

These new leaves are heavier than I thought. I need stronger wrists with such a heavy heart. What's the right word for "not quite getting anything right"? There I am. A picture on a wall. Remember? Does anyone ever really remember me? I've painted my room in black and white. I figure its a due break from the grey area I spend most of my day in. I smile at least. And its genuine at least. At least. Where am I though? What has hapiness bought me? An empty heart/hand/bed? I love the irony of life. At least. Sleep isn't the easiest to find lately. Maybe I've been cursed. Maybe I just don't try like I used to, but, honestly, why should you have to? So much effort for so little return. All out of fear. All out of ignorance. I've painted my room black and white.

--
jude via sidekick

No matter

How drunk you are it still sucks when everyone else is with a girl.

This is mainly the liquor talking, I don't really care all that much
but...damn. Can someone awkwardly hold my hand?

--
jude? via sidekick

Dear blog

Todd is a fucking fuckface asshole who doesn't even have the internet so he doesn't understand blogs. Fuck him.

Yes.

I'm a little drunk.

--
via sidekick

If I did hip-hop...

If

I

CAN

Keep my legs moving, keep my head on, keep it going. Steady falling on my face at every crack that’s in the pavement. Yeah, I’ve got plenty of scrapes on my hands and on my kneecaps, but I’m standing here today despite the bullshit and the mishaps. I grew up latchkey, poor as fuck out in the country and got beat up every day by kids who couldn’t understand me. I’m as awkward as fuck at making friends and getting ladies, I just get too fucking shaky so I drink to think less clearly, really. Nervous can’t even begin to sum it up, the type of kid with 1st place wondering if he’s just not good enough. An A+ average with those F- guts, but get a vodka tonic in me and turn this shit up. It’s like... I try hard and I just have to try harder. I climb to the top and feel the air getting heavier, but I can't lie to myself because there's always been pressure and I made it through last time and things just got better. So I do my best to always focus on the other hand. Head out the door because I have to make that money, man, but if I could I'd go and never stop running and end up someplace I've never, ever, ever been. I’m off work and I'm back into the bar again. See some ladies and wish I had the guts to talk to them. Like the little engine because I chug and chug and think I can...

Theres more, obviously, I just wanted to get some feedback and its been a minute since I updated.

I'll never tell her

But I hope what she writes is about me.

A Less Than Fictional Account of the Previous Nights Events

When this city gets cold and rainy it seems to stick for a few days. I always love it. Everyone I know complains, but I love the cold and the way it forces my hands into my pockets and squeezes my eyes into a hardened stare. I wouldn’t tell anyone else this but, sometimes, I like to imagine I’m walking through New York in the fifties. I look tough and I know it. So, with my hands driven hardily into my pockets, lips pursed, and my legs moving in a quick yet rhythmic stride I made my way across the parking lot to the slap of my feet against the wet ground and the distant thump of “tha bass in tha trunk”. I don’t live in the best neighborhood around here and I definitely don’t live in the worst...the consensus I’ve come to is “questionable”. I’ve heard stories of people getting robbed near here but I have a feeling that was less the neighborhood and more of a people being where they shouldn’t be situation. That’s right, I blame the victim in this scenario. Most people that have sewn their tales of danger from these parts begin their story with “Well, me and so-and-so were buying some pot…” thus discrediting any real grit and causing more of a “what did you think would happen?” reaction from me. I guess my message is this: “Kids, don’t judge a neighborhood by its criminal element if you’re feeding that same criminal element.” But, if only to get myself back on topic and lead this someplace closer to something other than rambling, I ran into said criminal element in said neighborhood and I fed. Technically I watered.

“Say, man.”

I kept walking. No one talks to me in this complex unless it has something to do with how I’m white, a “faggot”, or both.

“Eyyo…dude.”

I got in my truck, still assuming someone out of my peripheral vision was being spoken to, but my rear-view mirror told a different story. One of a large black man and his friend moving toward my window. I did what any half-stoned and paranoid, suburban-raised white kid would do in this situation and I locked my door. At this point, I forgot to mention, he was already at my door and requesting for me to roll the window down, which I did in the same motion as locking the door in a meager attempt to distract from my ignorant instinct.

“Is dee-dee there?”

I had no idea who he was talking about so, of course, I asked.

“Dee-dee, man, the dude that lives there too...blonde dude.”

I knew who he was talking about almost as soon as he started the sentence. My roommate (who shall remain nameless for the time being) sometimes tells people his name is “DD” or “Double D” in an effort, one can only assume, to seem a little more “hip to their jive”. I told the man I would soon find out is named “Bud” (how ironic, I wonder if his parent’s knew of his future profession…) that my roommate wasn’t home and that I was just about to leave.

“Ah, that’s cool then, tell him to hit me up when he gets home. I’m Bud. Hit this.”

At this point I’d like to omit what is a seemingly large and, honestly, the most interesting portion of this story for to sole reason of protecting myself. Just know that I, indeed, “hit it” and, after getting our new friend’s contact information, made your basic small-talk. The weather, business fluctuations around the holidays, the lack of quality girls around these parts and, when he sensed I was trying to leave, he told me to call him later.

I love a good businessman.

Mark Ronson - Version

Trust me.

http://www.mediafire.com/?1ma9mx2ax0l

1 God Put a Smile upon Your Face (featuring Daptone Horns) - Originally by Coldplay

2 Oh My God (featuring Lily Allen) - Originally by Kaiser Chiefs

3 Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before (featuring Daniel Merriweather) - Originally by The Smiths

4 Toxic (featuring Tiggers and Ol' Dirty Bastard) - Originally by Britney Spears

5 Valerie (featuring Amy Winehouse) - Originally by The Zutons

6 Apply Some Pressure (featuring Paul Smith of Maxïmo Park ) - Originally by Maxïmo Park

7 Inversion

8 Pretty Green (featuring Santo Gold) - Originally by The Jam

9 Just (featuring Phantom Planet) - Originally by Radiohead

10 Amy (featuring Kenna) - Originally by Ryan Adams

11 The Only One I Know (featuring Robbie Williams) - Originally by The Charlatans

12 Diversion

13 L.S.F. (featuring Kasabian) - Originally by Kasabian

14 Outversion

I can't deal with death

When people die I barely feel anything. At most I miss them about as much as a friend gone on vacation. I’ve always been like this. I cried at my uncle’s funeral, yeah, but I was 10 and people kept making me look at a dead body. I’m afraid of dead things, what do you expect? (Not afraid like its icky, but I always have a feeling that its not completely dead but instead its waiting for me to touch it so it can spring into an attack) Besides, everyone else was crying so what do you want from me? I needed to feel and look normal. Am I sad now? No. Do I miss him now? No. Do I remember him? Yes, we were semi-close. He gave me my first taste of beer and ate dog biscuits any time I came over in an effort to convince me he ate them as snacks. For the record he may have eaten them regularly, I chose to believe this isn’t the case though so I can still maintain respect for the man. Quite a few years later my aunt was diagnosed with cancer. She battled it for 6 years. In 2001 she came to stay with my mom and I because my cousin couldn’t take care of her on his own and still work enough to make the house/utilities payments (I was told this but I’m still not sure exactly why). I took her to chemo my entire senior year and even used it once or twice as an excuse to get out of work (I’m not proud but, hell, other people view someone dying as top priority so why not use that to my advantage?). She was great and actually into a lot of the super nerdy stuff I am (LoTR, Star Wars, …etc.) I moved to MO in 2002 and she died a month before I came back. I never got to say goodbye and this still bothers me sometimes but not because she’s dead, just because I’ll never see her again. People ask if I’ve ever had someone close to me die and I answer yes and use the aforementioned aunt as an example. We were close but not Mother/Son close. I try to imagine my mom dying and I feel nothing. I have friends who have panic attacks at the though of such things. A lot of people are like that. Not me. Granted, I would miss her. I would be sad. Not because she’s dead but because she’s gone. Sad because of all the things I never got to say (most because I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten to say it) and sad because I won’t get to see her anymore. Not sad because she’s dead, if that makes any sense. All of this came from a friend of a friend losing someone today and asking my advice on what to tell them. I realized I’m useless in this scenario. I can offer any sort of relationship or life advice, but comforting a mourner just isn’t in my repertoire. Same goes for the act of dying. I’m not afraid of that either. In some sort of messed-up way I actually embrace it. Not saying I want it to happen, I’m just saying if it did I wouldn’t mind. There have been a few times in the last four or five years that I definitely should have died and I just didn’t by some crazy luck. Trains, tornadoes and giant boxes in the highway...I’ve faced them all and the only emotion I had was me stressing not having a car. That’s it. Yes, I worry that some day all of the emotion I don’t feel will come back and kick me in the face, but I really do doubt it will happen. Of course I always say I’m not sad when people die and there is a little asterisk on this statement every time I say it. There is ONE person I’ve mourned for and I probably will forever, but that’s an entirely different story that means more to me than the attention it gets and one that deserves better than being sprawled out for everyone’s eyes on the internet. I guess what I’m saying is that, yes, I love my family and friends but if any of you come to me for a shoulder in your time of mourning, I’m sorry about the dick and fart jokes that will likely ensue.

Cold sheets/rooms/showers. Always one or all with me. Empty. Not a feeling so much as a fact. Smoke-filled nights and hazy days. Confused days. Mixed-up days. My head spins almost constantly. Things to do, people to please, but no one to please me. Selfishly self-less. Complain, complain, complain.

Look in the mirror

Life is crazy right now. Not bad, don’t get me wrong, I’m loving life. New friends, new promotion, new opportunities...I’m doing better than I have been for a while, unfortunately that makes me more anxious.

New friends scare me. In my eyes everyone that I want to be friends with is cooler than me. Once again, don’t get me wrong. I think I’m awesome...I’m just not so confident that everyone else does. I spend nights at bars standing near new friends, sweaty-palmed and waiting for someone to talk to me. Someone break the ice, please. When it happens I’m fine. I talk. I go to the bathroom and come back to a new conversation about something I have no idea about. Nervous again and again and again. Its not fun and I’m trying to change it. A few more nights and a few more stories and I think I’ll be fine.

New promotion. Man. Its going to be a feat but I think I can tackle it. A lot to learn from experience and experience alone. Until I get through this I have no idea what I’m doing. That is extremely frightening for me. I’m the answer guy. I know everything and if somehow I don’t I can always find out. Not this. No one knows exactly. I have no answer guy. Just questions and a lot of “I think...” going on. I’ll be fine.

New opportunities. Everyone I know wants to see me do something huge. Everyone that has seen me draw a picture, read something, or heard a song I wrote. I’m good at it all. Not in a conceited sort of way but more in a “fine, guys, I get it.” sort of way. I don’t believe I’m better than a lot of people at many things, and I barely think I’m better than anyone at any of this, but I am better than most and that’s all that matters I guess. I just need to focus. I need some help. I just don’t know where to get it. I need a way to get myself out there. First, though, I need to figure out what I want out there in the first place.

Life is crazy right now. I plan on using this blog to get a lot off of my chest. I plan a lot. Don’t be surprised if this is all I ever write here. Check back though, you never know.