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"When I do good, I feel good; when I do bad, I feel bad, and that is my religion." - Lincoln

10-19-03

I just got into a depressive funk, and I don't know why.  I think it may cause I don't really have anyone to call and talk to right now, when I want to.  I could try to give Whitney a ring, but I think she is asleep, I just text messaged her and she has yet to answer.  I'm not sure how honest she is with me about what she does with her time.  like today she told me that she was going to some car show with her family, but I'm not sure if she did that or if she went out with some dude.  it doesn't really matter to me much, I don't know how I feel about her, still....again...I dunno.  Its complicated, or its not and I am making it complicated.  I still need a girl, I could probably ask out this chick in my math class, but she is really tall, and I think she thinks I'm the weirdest guy ever, cause in that class I am just fucking weird, something about the people around me, or to be exact the hot girls around me, all of whom I want.  I probably want Cara the most, but she is going out with some guy, Peter, the lucky fuck.  Its alright though, she's a cool chick.

I'm listening to the new APC CD, its good stuff, but softer than I thought it would be.  you can't beat the lyrics or singing though, its really great.  Maynard is just awesome, I love his shit.  the new Sevendust CD is good too, it seems like a great combination of Lejon's singing with his screaming.  And I'm really sure you want to hear what I have to say about music, god damn I'm a pretentious bastard sometimes.

My mood isn't getting any better as I write this either, I thought it would help.  Maybe I should go write a story.  I was told I should be a writer by the people who read my stories, but I don't think that's a real viable career option.  I kind of want to be a teacher, and that is what I am leaning towards right now, even though the get paid shit and they have to deal with asshole kids all the time.  I would be a sweet ass teacher, like Mr. Bashay, except instead of black and Native American, I would be Mexican and white, somewhat the same, lol.  That's still a long ways away though, so I have much time to dick around, which I will take full advantage of.

I need a job still, but I also need to know which car is going to be mine, I have two cars that could be mine, and I would really want the Explorer over the Tempo, for obvious reasons, but I'm not sure how much of the decision is mine to make.  as soon as I find out, I'll get that job. I want to be a busser, but I don't particularly want to get my health card, so I may just work in some shitty place, who knows.  I guess that's all for this time, later.

10-9-03

Silence

Still life really moves. The molecules around the still objects continue to vibrate and are pulled and stretched.  The world around the still object continues on.  The Life flows and the object stays stagnant.  The people around admire the beauty, the stoic object.  Fantasies are created and destroyed, worlds are built and crumble, people live and die, all around this object.  The object doesn’t know what’s going on around it, the only thing that it could know is its own perfection or lack of perfection.  It is right or wrong, it is there or it isn’t; there is no gray within the objects realm.  This is the main reason why I envy the objects around me. 

                The object that caught my attention this time was just a shell, a conch shell that lay half buried in the sand.  I got up and started to remove it, to look at its grace more closely, but I stopped, deciding to not explore its depths anymore.  I did not want to steal what this shell had so perfectly attained.  Soon after I left the beach all together, deciding against my usual afternoon jog through the cape, across the wispy sand and through the pier, with all its rustic wood which seemed such a blight upon the otherwise unscarred landscape.

                I gathered myself up in my windbreaker, although it was neither cold nor windy, I felt a chill that crept down my back and through my entire body.  Somewhere down the beach, a dog was running along with his owner; something I can never know.  Everything that is around me withers and dies…or so it seems.  Of course that’s not true, my neighbors are all still as alive and kicking as ever.  And I have a girl-friend of sorts.  Just everything besides that dies.

                Driving down the road, back towards my house, nothing changed in my view.  I went from ocean to mountains to city and to home…but they all were the same, one landscape uprooted by the people around.  Mountains that used to have trees on them, oceans that used to have fish, cities that used to be plains.

                I reached my door, neighbors unnoticing; most of them were either at work or asleep.  An eccentric building that had tenants from very young to very old.  Somehow I was put there, in the middle floor, in the middle of their ages, in the middle of my life.  The stairs creaked, the ceiling leaked when the toilet upstairs flooded.  An apartment like this one would go for 700 a month, I pay 1000.  Somewhere inside a room on my right, a dog whined as it went hungry and on my left a mother fed her son some applesauce.

                As I entered my residence, my home, everything was as it was when I left earlier.  Somewhere inside I think I wanted something different, maybe for the place to be ransacked, to be torn apart; to have all my possessions ripped apart and strewn about the place without meaning.  Instead I was greeted with a sterile and organized room.  Briefly I entertained the idea of destroying this place myself, of grabbing the glass table and throwing it against the bookshelf that kept all the books that I would never read. The mahogany wood that had its own place in beauty, but lost in my apartment, burned to ashes.  My television that cost more than some peoples cars, tossed out the window, careening down the 4 stories to land upon an innocent passerby.  I imagined all this in the time it took for the door to swing shut behind me and for my keys to go in their specified trey.

                My next stop in my sterile apartment was a blinking light. Once, twice.  Pause.  Once, twice. 2 messages.  First message: silence then a phone hanging up.  Second message: same thing, except a shorter silence.  No one wants to talk with someone who doesn’t exist anyways.  I don’t know why I have an answering system.  Somewhere down the hall, a mother is yelling at her child for not eating.

                The refrigerator has nothing much except some hot dogs, moldy hot dog buns and Gatorade, its alright, I wasn’t hungry anyways.  I turned on my television, started flipping the channels until I decided that silence was the better option, and turned it off.  Silence.  Another man was coming home from his job, walking noisily down my hallway.  His heels clicking on the floor.  Click…Click…Click.  So much like the incessant ticking of a noisy clock.  We should put down carpeting so that the noise wouldn’t be so bad.  He finally got to his door, three left of my room, two left of the noisy mother and child, 5 left of the whiney dog.  He jangled his keys, trying to find the correct one.  “Son of a bitch….” I guess he cannot find the right one on the first or second try.

                I tired of listening to this simpleton try to find his way into his own house and went to my bedroom.  When I entered it, I thought of it burning.  The satin sheets giving off the acrid stench of burning, the plastic shelving melting into unrecognizable blobs of gelatin.  Again this fantasy is not new, and it ended soon after it began, although it left the smell in my nose.  There was a berretta in the drawer to the left of my bed, second one down in my nightstand.  It lay silent and calm in its leather casing, near the bible I kept as though this apartment was a hotel room and I would be leaving soon for the next occupant to enter.

                I crossed over to where the pistol lay, my hand opened the drawer before I could think better and my hand grasped the gun.  It was pulled from its sheath then, for the second time only.  The dog hadn’t stopped whining this entire time.  Someone should make it be silent.  I left the sterile apartment then.  I left the building itself in silence.

10-8-03

A Story

September came and went, just like every other month that happened in this shit-hole that was Delhomme.  Off the coast, too far from the beach to get my parents to drive me frequent enough for my tastes, there was nothing to do in the city.  Fresno was farther than the beach, and that town was only better than this one because I didn’t live there.  Tonight was another night of drinking followed by a brawl bad enough for some nosy neighbor to call the police.  It wasn’t that it was a bad fight, or worse than any of the others, it was just louder.  Its my theory that neighbors don’t care whether you live or die, just so long as you don’t disturb their sleep or step on their bushes; although this could only be because we do both often.

We – myself, Jonas, and Sean – all grew up within walking distance of each other.  That’s the only way that we could get together outside of school, since our parents could give a rat’s ass about our lives outside of their roof.  So long as we were not in trouble with the local law-enforcement, we had free run of what we cared for.  Maybe that’s why we were so tired of everything, because we had already been doing basically everything for as long as our memories could recall.  Our parents knew what we were doing, they just didn’t care enough to get mad; they turned a blind eye to us, the lost children of our town.

Still, we all got along fine enough on our own; we always had each other to fall back upon.  That’s why we were always into fights, people just didn’t like us.  I don’t blame them for not liking us, or even tolerating us; we were assholes to all the people who were assholes to us, and most assholes don’t tolerate that.  One of us was always saying one thing too much and before I knew it we were defending ourselves from 5 guys, all intent on reclaiming their pride that they had lost in our verbal spar.  These fights were in self defense, of course, but hardly anyone saw that.  So we were labeled the town’s belligerents.

It didn’t phase us, they could put what labels they wished on us, we were just us.  None of them mattered anyways, we were out of this town as soon as we finished high school; we would all be eighteen and our parents couldn’t stop us, not that they wanted to anyways.  I was smart enough to go to college, a good one in fact (my SATs showed as much), but my grades would keep me out of most of them, and the ones that would accept me were nothing I was looking for.  My future isn’t going to be found in academics, that much I knew. 

“Hey slut!” I bellowed to Brittney, one of our few other friends and our only girl friend; honestly I don’t know why she still is our friend.

“Hey asshole!” she yelled right back.  Oh yeah, I know why she is our friend, she is just like us, only feminine.  She ran up to us and gave Jonas a dead arm.  “Oww!  Damn it, you know my arm is still hurting from last night.”  The fight really did a number on his arm, a real muscle-bound jock had him in a full arm bar lock and was about to break his elbow.  If it weren’t for a strategically placed kick to the groin by Sean, Jonas’ arm would probably be broken.  “Aww, poor baby, you want me to kiss it better,” Britt pursed her lips in a mock kiss.  She was undeniably beautiful, with long black hair, full features that accented her 5’6” body.  No one understood why she hung around us, not even us really.  Of course, we all have had a crush on her at least once in the time we have known her, and some of us still had one - Jonas’ wasn’t one of them though. “Why don’t you stick those lips somewhere they belong, like on my ass?”  We all laughed at that one, and each of us wondered how long he had been keeping that gem.  Jonas isn’t the brightest guy, and usually doesn’t come up with quips on the spot.

I interrupted their spat, which could last for hours, “Alright you two children, to your corners, we don’t want another hissy-fit from Jonas like last time.  I think that we should just go play some pool, we still have an hour or two before sundown.”

“I think that he should shut his trap before I shut it for him.”  She is especially fired up; I guess that comment really ruffled her feathers, more so than I thought.  It has been growing more intense, this feud between the two of them.  At first, I thought he just liked her and didn’t know how to show it. But now, I believe that they dislike each other with true passion as time goes on.

Jonas stormed away after that, citing some crap excuse.  Sean went after him, to keep him out of trouble not to keep his company.  Neither of us could stand to be with Jonas when he gets like this.  With Sean and Jonas gone, Me and Brittney were left to our own desires, although I’m sure that my desires are different than her desires.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt your meditation, but are we going to get moving sometime soon?  ‘Cause even though I like baking, I don’t enjoy baking my skin,” the sarcasm was dripping so bad I thought I would drown.

“Oh be quiet, its only 85 degrees out here.”

“Yeah, yeah, well lets get the git out.”

“Does that make any sense at all?”

“Shut up.”

We left soon after that, chasing our own shadows down the street until there were no more shadows to chase.  We lost all track of where we were, however we’re never far away from what we know.  Both of us have walked these streets, fields, and alleyways so many times we know them all by the sounds around us.  The crickets and the humming of a bug zapper told us that we are near James Hutchinson’s house.  Near enough in fact for him to see us and yell at us to get off his property.  He is like a caricature of himself.  Britt summarily flipped him off and we continued on our way.

We finally got to my favorite spot in the entire town.  It took a little work to get to, but we both knew the way by heart.  Climbing over the fence that had lost all its barbed wire years ago by more industrious kids than ourselves, we slowly, almost reverently, approached what I thought of as “our” spot.  At least I hoped it would become our spot.  I stopped just short and watched her approach.  The light illuminated her face such that she looked blessed by God himself, and at that moment I knew that she was the girl whom I wanted to spend my life with.

“Umm….” I clear my throat and try to gain some conviction.  She turned toward me after I cleared my throat, a smile spread across her face.  Pearls shone from under ruby lips, and my heart stopped.  I searched myself clumsily for the paper that I had kept in pocket for a year.  Finally I had it out in my hand.

“What’s that paper ya got there, buddy?”

I was at a loss for words, so I opened it up and abruptly started blurting it out, unceremoniously, and very much unlike how I thought it should be.

She is so beautiful
Perfection, the quintessence of beauty
I observe her for eternity
And I could continue forever

Her hair falls in golden locks down her shoulders
The slight curvature of a smile beginning to approach the corners of her mouth
A gentle touch on her skin
And her teeth bleed through

The sun shines on her like no other
A sensual curve, accentuates a gentle sway
Curtains drawn back, sunlight erupts
She basks in what she knows to be right
Her life so perfect, he life so much beauty

She dawns a sweater
To fight off the brisk air
Blue. Her eyes a shade deeper.

Pupils that give all that she feels
And the entire of her soul
It belies that amount of depth
The fact that she is wise beyond reality

How she feels in the light of a new day
Mere mortals will never know
Her grace is eternal

And I love her so

                I had to look away, I was so embarrassed that I had even brought it out, let alone said it to her.  “I….uh….wrote that about….you…”  When I finally looked up, which must have been a few minutes at least, there were tears in her eyes.

                “I, I don’t know what to say….that , that was beautiful….”  And so suddenly that I think she surprised herself, she ran the few steps to me and kissed me with passion that destroyed all my reservations and left only the moment.  The one moment that lasted the rest of our lives, untold desires expressed with our passion.  I still live in a crap town that has nothing to do, but this moment made this town and my years here worth a thousand more boring nights.

 If you ever want to say something to me, send me an e-mail!  I love getting emails about everything, and even about nothing.  So if it ever strikes your fancy, hit me up at notperfectnow@hotmail.com