play a song for me [17 Jul 2009|03:34am] [ mood | lonely ] apparently i am not sleeping now. i want it to be a year from now, life to be normal.

1 song - play a song for me [13 Jul 2009|11:50am] [ mood | lonely ] i have two goals for today: pay my ticket online, and write a certain passage. I have already paid my ticket. now i just need to kill time for three hours until my dad goes to work so i can get to work.

2 songs - play a song for me [11 Jul 2009|09:31pm] [ mood | tired ] oh god, what a long day. i am so tired.

play a song for me [11 Jul 2009|10:44am] [ mood | okay ] okay. the weekend is here. that means fifty-two hours until i am alone in the house again, until i can write. i may be able to write for a few hours this weekend, lock myself in my room - i was last weekend - but it will be two days until i can get anything substantial done. which may be good. maybe i need two days to gather material so i have something substantial to write. i am writing like i haven't written since i was in high school, when i was writing screenplays instead of stories. the pages come, the words are strong. i am writing like i've wanted to write since i started college, when all my time escaped into the black hole that is semester and quarter living. i looked up and in three years i had written maybe seventy-thousand words (not including the words that appear in this text box, of course). i'll be coming up on thirty-thousand words in the next week. the only problem is i am writing so much, so fast, that i am actually keeping up with my ideas, events. Yes, a lot has been skipped over, and needs to be written in or out before the end, but as far as moments of story go, i am abreast, if not actually ahead a little bit, of where i can be, considering the nature of the story. not that that is a problem - just that i am running out of stockpiled material, and that means i am going to have to go out into the world soon. anyways, here is my checklist for the day: make sure PSCS4 works and is not infected with some virus, burn it, and then make a run of it in exchange for some much needed horticultural goods. go to the bank. pay parking ticket. try to write see jenna if she comes to town. i am all but given up on the masterpiece report writing thing. i feel foolish for getting my hopes up, making large-font entries. there are two reasons: A) i am not at all sure this is not an identity theft/home robbery scam, wherein you send them all kinds of personal information and detailed pictures of your home and the valuables in it, and they come clean you out. B) i am not at all ready to put myself fully back into the real world. theatrics and drama and woeisme aside, i have a lot of shit to work through, and i just don't have the emotional energy to put on that fake smile and handshake. and this is where circumstances become excuses becomes a vicous cirlce. how predictable am i? but you know what? today it's okay. today i am not going to beat myself up. today i am going to try to support myself.

play a song for me [10 Jul 2009|12:06pm] [ mood | drained ] i keep acting like ooh child things are gonna get easier, but i am only kidding myself. maybe i am kidding other people too. i keep pretending like i think things are going to change, like one day i will wake up and things will be brighter. i front like all i'm missing is the right plan. all i have to do is find the right goal, and everything will magically be different. but the truth is i feel empty, dead. i have no more passion for anything. every time i start to feel the slightest bit passionate and motivated i am struck with a feeling of childishness, of uselessness. I should try this writing job. but i haven't got the balls to do it. either i won't get hired and i will think my writing isn't even good enough to write about some ridiculous home somewhere, or it is a scam, and they are telling everyone who applies that they initially qualify so's they can be sent the address and pictures of all your valuables. Or, i will get the job, and then i won't have enough money to either go down to los altos for an interview, or for a camera, and it will be over. and that's just my pessimism. it feeds off the emptiness. everything - everything from makign myself sit up and get out of bed, to cooking food, to going out with friends, to looking for a job, to thinking about school, about my future, to thinking about how i am going to make my car payment next month - is a struggle against the emptiness. it's like, i recognize the things i need to do, and i even accomplish some of them, but mostly i don't, and the things that i do do are not done out of any kind of driving force, any will of my own, but because i also recognize that if i don't at least eat once a day or go over to someone's house when they ask me to, i will start to decompose. I feel like i'm playing a video game, and i have made a mistake. i used the wrong item that i only get one of and had to trade for a special weapon, and now i'll never get the weapon, so i may as well just turn the power off and start over at the last save point, which was like, eight hours ago and totally sucks, and i don't want to redo all that crap now, so i am just pushing forward with the mistake game, each second being another second of playtime later before i catch back up, because if i don't push forward i may as well just quit playing. god, i really hope this pretending pays off soon. i'd hate to think about where i'm headed if i never regain my passion. i would really like to wake up now.

3 songs - play a song for me [09 Jul 2009|12:43pm] [ mood | anxious ] I feel like my life is running out. or something. suddenly things are moving way too fast, too much is happening. there is too much to think about.

play a song for me [08 Jul 2009|11:20pm] [ mood | hopeful ] Congratulations from Green Frog Communications! We have carefully reviewed your introductory letter, background resume and answers to our questionnaire. Thank you for trusting us with that information. The good news is that your experience and background meet the general and specific requirements of our Home Advantage program. Now in order to zero in specifically on your writing skills, we are asking you to submit a sample of your writing style in the form of a condensed and truncated Masterpiece Report (3 to 5 pages) for your own home, or a friend’s home, and submit it to us for review. See instructions attached. The report you write will give you an opportunity to demonstrate {1} your writing skills, {2} your ability to replicate a specific writing style (write to a form), {3} your photography skills, and {4} your overall command of MS Word 2007, including the integration of your photos into your document. You will not be paid for writing this test Masterpiece Report. However, we will carefully evaluate your Report and rely on it heavily in making a final determination of your eligibility for the writing specialist job opportunity we are offering. We will contact you soon after receiving and reviewing your Report to either schedule a follow-on meeting in Los Altos, or to discuss other options going forward. If you wish to submit a test Masterpiece Report for consideration, please carefully look over the three attached proprietary documents. The first is the Memory Jogger checklist that we provide our client homeowners to help them remember and summarize their home’s special features. In this case, as both the “homeowner” and Masterpiece Report writer, you will find the Memory Jogger document very helpful in both regards. Complete this document before starting to write your test Report. The second attached document is a sample Masterpiece Report (PDF) that you will use as a format and writing style guide. The Report is written in a storybook style that you will need to replicate. Note that the Sample Report template (a different document) will be provided to you at a later time. This template will help you in creating the Reports that you will write for the client homeowners. The third attached document contains the instructions for contacting and interacting with homeowners. It also provides instruction for writing Masterpiece Reports and submitting them to GFC for review and consideration. Read all of the instructions before starting on your test Report as they will give you a comprehensive overview of exactly what is involved in this job. You should find the instructions to be easy to follow, however if you have any unanswered questions please feel free to contact us by email (preferred) or phone. If by phone, leave the best time to reach you in case you miss us. Thank you again for your interest in the Home Advantage writing specialist job opportunity. We look forward to receiving your test Masterpiece Report submittal as the next and final step in the on-line vetting process, although submitting a test Report in itself does not guarantee selection for the position. Also, please understand that even if your test Report demonstrates excellence and you are selected, depending on your location you may be temporarily placed in an administrative queue as we expand the Home Advantage program geographically throughout the Bay Area. Sincerely, Michael Moshier, President Green Frog Communications holy fucking shit. I got the chance. i get to see if my writing is good enough to make a living on. now I just need to find a digital camera to do the initial shoot with. mine is lost and my transfer cable has been indisposed of for months now. shit. i am still not going to let my hopes get up. i do not want to be crushed when this does not happen. who am i kidding? my hopes are already up. this is it. a fair shot at the real fucking world. this could seriously be the turning point of my life if i become a Masterpiece Report writer. jesus christ, i'll be able to change my occupation on myspace to writer.

1 song - play a song for me [08 Jul 2009|01:54pm] [ mood | hopeful ] I just (kind of) applied for the first job i have applied for since my mom died. I refuse to get my hopes up, becauseven though getting the job would mean I could move to the bay, like, tomorrow, and it is quite possibly the most perfect job that has ever been posted on craigslist, as those jobs pertain to me. here is the posting: This job involves following up and meeting with the client homeowners, collecting and summarizing home data (the homeowners do most of this work by completing an in-depth questionnaire), taking photographs, and then writing Masterpiece Reports typically averaging 15 to 25 pages in length, including the photographs. Depending on the size of the home, the Reports range from 2,000 to 3,000 words of narrative. You will use a sample Masterpiece Report template provided by GFC as a style/format guide. You do NOT need to be a professional photographer or have a real estate license. Depending on your skill level and writing experience, actual report writing time can take three to eight hours. For each Report that you complete and deliver to the homeowner, GFC pays you $700, or more, depending on the price of the home. Your relationship with GFC will be that of an authorized independent contractor. . I know what kayce would say about this: apply for a real job. and i say: fuck you, i am going to look for work that doesn't make me want to shave my wrists, and that i could actually possibly subsist on. there is no fucking way i am going to get this job, of course, but writing the introductory letter and resume were good for killing time until now, an hour before my dad goes to work and i can write. now i need to go shit in our newly fixed toilet, so off i fuck.

play a song for me [06 Jul 2009|11:54pm] [ mood | worried ] shit. [Ed: this shit is not supposed to be this big, it is only supposed to be one font size larger than normal, but it will not shrink andmyore using the open font size=x. i am worried, as my mood bubble indicates, but i'm not that worried.] I just coughed from smoking weed, and i think i may have cracked my rib falling off that box. probably not, because i laughed and jumped around, and fell a lot more after the rib bit, and it didn't hurt, hasn't hurt, like broken hurt until just now. but maybe.

1 song - play a song for me [06 Jul 2009|10:58pm] [ mood | sore, sick ] I saw two people today I wasn't sure I'd ever see again: Nick and Tim. we hung out all day. we went to fry's and then went to chris' and skated and rode bikes. I fucked up my rib and tore off the tip of my non-broken big toe trying to manual - barspin off of chris' box. then I almost broke my ankle doing the 3-flip mount on the skateboard. I am so old. my body is just like, "oh, you still want to run around and have fun? too bad. you had your time and done smoked and drank and popped and inhaled it all away." Then we came to my house and hung out for like, four hours. Tim and I did nitrous hits together, and now I feel like even more shit than I did after breaking myself. it could also be the fact that I haven't eaten all day. and now it is too late for me to have faith in getting any writing done, so i am here. it was really good to see them again. it was like we were fifteen again. there were no hard feelings, which i had been told by third parties for years now, but it was still amazing to see. i think tim and i may even become friends again, though i won't put any bets down. i think that friendship may be beyond repairing. we'll see. Ugh. i am only writing this because i want to record this day, this incident, even superficially. i am not sure if it will make it into my story. it would make a certain amount of sense, because there is already a trend of people reentering my life, but i think it may be a bit much, and not entirely on point. we'll see. but all of it has already passed my mind, lost precedence to my condition of person right now. i feel like the way people on hallucinogenics feel when they think they are dying. if I didn't know better, I would assume that same assumption. i don't know if it's the low blood sugar, or if it's some kind of hangover from the nitrous, or if it is that i have been filled with a terrible longing for times past, for my youth. Tim and Nick are the only friends I have who knew my mom before her stroke, were there when she was in the hospital the first time. When we knew each other there were still opportunities, options. Tim is in the same boat i'm in. the only differences being that his mother is alive and well, and my transcripts show college credits. Nick is five months away from getting out, and he is going to move back here and buy a house and goddamnit i feel like a fucking failure. i am a fucking failure. kayce probably feels so vindicated right now, if she still reads this. That's right, baby, i'm a loser, and you're right about me. I wish i wish you luck in your endeavors. my head feels like it's going to fall off my spine, my body feels like it's going to fall through the floor, and my limbs feel like they don't exist. i have the ache in my sternum that accompanies deep and profound (not like a book is deep and profound, but like a lake is deep and profound) weeping. I have the feeling - with my eyes open or closed - like i am super tiny in a gigantic landscape. like vertigo x 2. envirotigo. i want to cry - am praying i cry - the same way i pray for an orgasm after three hours of sex. i just want them out of me. the tears, of course. for the first time in a long time i am afraid to go to sleep. no, wait. for the second time in a long time (i was afraid to sleep after i ate my tooth.) i don't know. i have a little bit of weed, and i am going to smoke it and a cigarette and probably go to bed. I will write beforehand if i can, but my brain feels broken right now. we'll see.

play a song for me [06 Jul 2009|09:32am] [ mood | lonely ] this is the first day that i didn't have to work i've woken up before noon in the last week. the day is going to be so long. i'm gonna need to go to the store and get cigarettes soon. Besides helping me along my path towards grieving, i think what i am writing is also helping me figure out my direction from here on out. maybe. i don't know what i want to be. all i know is what i don't want to be. now that kayce is out of the picture, I find my old mentality to be very appealing (though improactical at this current juncture, indeed impossible). here's another vow: i vow to never again let a woman sidetrack me, pull me away from my desire, change my desire.I am not along for any bitch's ride. she can come along for mine, if she wants, or she can fuck off. the indefinite she being whoever comes into my life once i've stood back up. I will try for celibacy again, but we all know how horny i am, pretty much all the time, and how impossible it is for me to turn away from, *sigh* llloovve. ugh. i make me sick. I also need to go attend to bodily finctions, but the toilet is broken, so i need to go fix it. i also need to shower at some point today.

play a song for me [05 Jul 2009|12:20pm] [ mood | broken ] i think my organs may be planning to secede. it feels as though they have packed their bags, piled into the car, and are now trying to fine an exit in my epidermis. i need to poop, but i'm afraid my liver will jump ship in all the commotion.

1 song - play a song for me [04 Jul 2009|07:23pm] [ mood | alone ] today i am drinking the beer kayce's family got for me over the last few years. it is a bitter (literally) goodbye to an era. i have not really grieved yet. there has been no bawling, no falling down and wailing. the most i have gotten out of myself is a little heavy breathing now and again. i am actually considering seeing a counselor. or rather, i would see a counselor if i was still going to school someplace where such services were offered free of charge. and we all know how i feel about counseling. i just don't know what to do with myself. the day has been spent mostly with my father, with interludes of working and writing. i find it almost unbearable to spend much time with him. partially because he reminds me of my mom, being that he is my dad, and partially because he needs/wants of me what i need/want from the nonexistant person to my left. he needs what i need. what i don't have. what i couldn't spare even if i did have. so instead, i fake it. and he doesn't know the difference. to a lonely person a hug given out of a sense of obligation is the same as a hug given out of love. the tradeoff, since i obviously have enough to give at least a facsimilie of what he needs, is that i feel more hollow, more devoid of emotion. all i feel i have left are the skills i gained as an actor. the only emotion i really have is feigned. i feel kind of posessed, or like i'm having an out of body experience. i am tired to a chair somewhere deep in my chest cavity, held in captivity by the iron bars of my ribcage. i can look out and see what i am doing, what i am not doing, what i "should" be doing. and it's like a fucking roulette wheel which one i will choose. sometimes i do the wrong thing, sometimes i do the right thing, most of the time i don't do the wrong thing, i just don't do the right thing either. i just don't know. i should go watch a movie or something with my dad. be sociable. i just want to go lay down and sleep, but sleep will be here soon enough. i want to get stoned. i want to cry. chances are i will do nothing stated above.

play a song for me [03 Jul 2009|05:14pm] [ mood | alone ] two weeks. jesus christ. that's so long. i don't know what else to say. i want to be writing, but am unable because my father is home. video games and movies seem utterly trite at this point. maybe i should clean my room. i should do something productive. i should do something active. i should keep my mind turning for a few more hours.

4 songs - play a song for me [27 Jun 2009|11:19am] [ mood | exhausted ] yesterday was one week. i did not even think about or acknowledge the fact. all week i have been feeling guilty about not seeing my dad. i have seen him for, maybe, an hour since he left for work on monday. i missed him. i wanted to see how he is doing. but today, i can't help but hate the fact it's saturday. no work. no alone time. no ability to write. I am going to the lake this afternoon with Jenna. I haven't been to the lake in a very long time. it will be good. it is really good to see so much of her again. kayce was always jealous, and so i didn't get to see her but a few times in the last two and a half years. next relationship i'm in I vow not to be such a spineless lump. of course, that is a long way off. perhaps permanently postponed. but between now and the lake, my dad wants to go to home depot, so i need to get dressed and stoned so i can make an appearance out in the world.

8 songs - play a song for me [25 Jun 2009|11:56pm] [ mood | happy ] buying a tattoo gun was probably the best mistake i've ever made.

play a song for me [24 Jun 2009|12:03pm] [ mood | complacent ] i am at jenna's. she is at work. i went with her to work yesterday, but she didn't have to leave until like, right now, whereas this morning she worked at eight thirty, and i didn't entirely feel like getting out of bed, so i am hanging out with her cat instead. the last couple days have been nice. i don't know if i actually feel any better about anything, though. talking is really nice, but i'm always so freaked out about what i'm laying on somebody it's hard to be completely honest, even with jenna. i will go home tonight. i am homesick, or what i have come to understand as feeling homesick. i am worried about how life is going to be from here on out. i dropped out of my summer classes. i need to find a job. i have absolutely no idea what i am going to do. i can go back to welding, which, even after one class i know is a place i will never belong. i can go to sacramento and pursue vet tech shit, but A) i don't even want to go to that godforsaken city again, and B) i still have my whole lack of ability to deal with death, animal death though it may be, on a daily or weekly or even monthly basis. being down here has made me reconsider moving to san francisco. i know it is absolutely out of reach, but, honestly, even the spare room in dennis' new apartment, which he said would cost me $275/mo is out of reach at the moment, so i may as well set my sights somewhere that would make me happy. or at least productive. i always feel like my hands and brain are on fire here. i can remember details clearer and for longer. there is more meaning in every street-corner hustler and in every dirty needle under every overpass. the people are more alive. i could write down here. that's all i want to do. i do not want to go back to university. i do not want to pick up a trade or a certification. and i do not want to settle down and find something nice and stable and suffocating. i don't know. i am going to go have a smoke and read, and maybe figure out where my story starts. Jenna will be off in three and a half hours, and i should at least accomplish finishing Bluebeard by then.

3 songs - play a song for me I wish I could sing no regrets, and no emotional debts... [22 Jun 2009|04:06pm] [ mood | calm ] last night kayce and i broke up. again. this time for good. i goaded her into doing it, because i am a chickenshit, and lost my nerve. but after friday i knew i was going to have to break up with her. Q: what kind of a fucking cunt goes to san francisco the day her supposed future mother-in-law dies, rather than even pretend to care about her supposed future husband? A: a selfish one. so saturday when we talked i picked a fight, and was going to break up with her. but i lost my nerve. two and a half years is a long time to let go of. my nerve still hadn't returned by sunday, so when i spoke to her i put words that she refused to speak into her mouth until we were no more. if i sound bitter, it's because i am. i am not bitter or broken up about the break up, but my heart is broken. it was already broken last month after the fucking left field bullshit she pulled on me, and what little bit was left was burned to ash when she basically told me that the most grievous day of my life thus far was less important to her than looking at jellyfishes in a city she hates. i am bitter because there is no one to give me a hug. she couldn't even muster the human empathy to do that. so anyways, she is bringing my shit back to me tonight, and then i am going with jenna to her house in oakland or berkeley or somewhere in that general vicinity for a few days. for now, though, i am going to go get stoned and bathe and do laundry and perhaps try to write. funny, she tells me i will never amount to anything. all she did was make the story better. no one would want to read a story about a guy who has a fully functional support system. no important truths could be gotten to if the nurse has already come and made everything better. the story will commence just as soon as i can reread HWOSG. you know what my biggest regret is? all the beautiful art i have shared with her that she will never be able to appreciate. she has unfairly stolen from my future ex girlfriends songs and books and movies and sentiments that rightfully belong to them. alright. i am not high, and it is 4:20. peeze out, bitches

1 song - play a song for me are you there god? it's me, margaret, and i fucking hate you. [21 Jun 2009|02:13pm] [ mood | alone ] now my car is fucking breaking down.

3 songs - play a song for me [19 Jun 2009|09:10pm] [ mood | alone ] well, this entry has to come sooner or later, and now is as good a time as any, seeing as how there is no room for me in the living room. my mother is dead. she went into the hospital sunday before last after collapsing at home. she was diagnosed with internal bleeding and organ failure, and the last week and a half has been spent keeping her comfortable. the official cause of death was heart failure. now my brother is here, and between him and my father i think i may go crazy. and i feel terrible becuase i am already planning on exploiting this situation with my pen. i don't actually know what to say now that i am here. most of what i want to write is held up by said planned exploitations, and as such, is off limits for this text box. the rest is just jumbled up and i am too fatigued to pull it out and put it together. i want to give myself a tattoo.

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