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5.26.04/23:06 road-tripping to maryland Here is how I met Autumn. Three years ago I bought a ticket for the Rolling Rock Town Fair so I could see Incubus in concert. Since I lived in Indiana back then, I took off two weeks from work and got all packed up to go. On my last night at Crapplebee's, in a fit of frustration, I put in my two weeks notice. About 20 minutes after I finished my last shift, I started my expedition to PA.
Interspersed between all these boring clips, I had every cute girl I met say her name and give a one-sentence description of herself. When me and Jesse went to Deep Creek, Maryland, we stopped in a gas station and I had Autumn say her name and stuff about herself into the camera. And I got her phone number. Sweet.
And I made a map, and I went, and it was good times. We watched a movie, I got to meet Autumn's roommates, and she called me a computer geek. Sometime around 4 or 5 in the morning her cat woke be up because it was scratching my butt. Sometime shortly after dawn we went to breakfast.
And I realize that the post below this is filled with grammatical errors. I'm going to leave them unfixed as a testament to my mental state at the time of writing it. 5.23.04/08:22 time for breakfast
[sanctity] rhyming poem
A redheaded girl brought me a cookie yesterday, which was was pretty cool. I'm a big fan of redheads, especially neurotic ones who want to violate me. But that's just speculation on my part. It's yet to be seen if she will.
[blood] kinda-rhyming poem
I took it outside and was severely tempted to squash it, but at the last second I decided that if I were a cockroach in a jar I would be really really wanting at that point to just be set free in the wilderness. Wouldn't you?
And to cap off my weekend, I saw Keesha this morning and I gave her my phone number. What happened was that my friend Von was trying to pick her up and she had me demonstrate protocol for him on how to approach a girl. Still, it would be pretty neat if she called me.
Now I'm going out to breakfast with Jesse. I'm going to make him drive because I am a death hazard behind the wheel right now. Maybe later I'll get some pics of our neighborhood yard sale day which is going on as we speak, er, as I type, but maybe not as you read this, but then again maybe if you read it like within the next 9 hours after I post this. 5.21.04/00:02 return to the tenth circle (wpic) Boo to going back to work tomorrow. Bah. But I guess it's necessary if I want to keep up my lavish lifestyle. Yeah right. This week, I didn't do anything.
Not a damn thing.
And it was nice. Maybe next week I will do something. Maybe.
Today I wrote a poem. Chubbs tells me it's sad. 5.21.04/00:02 material it's a delightful and light sort of feeling i get when i hang around you but also it's frightful and right short of stealing my heart and the sole...of my shoe
i get short of breath and i say stupid things which i know that i'll later regret i'm scared half to death of emotions you bring they're not shared, and that makes me upset
still it's okay, 'cause i'm made of material not even YOU can destroy i know that deep down you're a blood-thirsty serial- meeter and eater of boys 5.18.04/(dark outside) day 3 of time deprivation
This is a sketch I did. After my exhaustive study of Art History, I really wanted to do something slightly unique, something I felt was my own, so I came up with the concept of mazism. The sad thing is that since there are 6 billion people in the world, someone else probably already stole my idea. The only thing left to do is go back in time and kill them. But if I could do that, I'd be rich. Well, at least I'd have all sorts of good stories to tell about meeting Jesus and Tesla and that guy who was a spy way back when.
All this fun ends at midnight tonight, whenever that is, and then I can go back to my normal, clock-watching existence. The reason is because tomorrow I have real things to do that require me to acquiesce to the temporal nature of your silly human experience. Boo to that. Hooray for time dep. 5.17.04/21(?):xx day 2 of time deprivation The thousand-leggers that live in my basement have decided to stage a coup, now that I've decimated their military planner and minister of finance. That's okay, though, there is plenty of boot to go around. Oh, I forgot, here's those lyrics.
[don't love you] nicotine fist lyrics
So day 2...day 1 was easy, I slept for about 20 hours with a short nap of awakeness during which I slayed Tiamat after 13 years of letting him live. (Tiamat is that bastard sky dragon from FF1) And today, I woke up pretty soon after daybreak and went to get my oil changed.
At the mall, everything was closed. I don't think I've ever been there when stuff's not open yet. It was weird. It was also weird being without my beloved watch. I call him Watchy. Oh Watchy, I miss your shining yellow face, and those hands...
Yeah. Crazy. And right now I'm downloading a Gameboy Advance Emulator so I can play me some Lufia 4. The first game in the series had two things in it I really liked, the first being that you start with a suped-up level 87 party and kill the final bosses during the opening sequence, and the second thing being Forfeit Island, where all your dropped and sold items go.
Here's a poem. 5.17.04/21(?):xx frenzy a dozen happy holidays i'd waste away with you those haze-filled lazy summer days (i've chased away a few)
at night, before the moon comes 'round i'd linger in your mouth a smack, a crack, an awful sound before our plans go south
and sure, we patch our troubled hearts in liquor-frenzied throws not long before more trouble starts until we come to blows 5.16.04/19:xx sleep and time deprivation experiment
And today I had an enlightening experience. I actually got to go on the ROOF of Western Psych. One of my friends with the blue blazer and the master key showed me the top of Oakland. It's not like looking out the window of the top of the Cathedral. It's all tarpaper and not much railing and lots of wind and the most splendiferous view of a sleeping campus city section that you can picture. Think of the cone-shaped light of a helicopter piercing the fog, and you're looking at it head-on instead of from the ground. Jolly good fun. Next time I go up there I want to pitch a milk carton at a car.
Let's see, what else...I haven't gotten any real sleep in about 3 days, I got an e-mail with a tracking number for my soda pop, still don't know about Japan, Megan stood me up for breakfast, and the grass is about a foot-and-a-half high. But Chubbs is coming to visit for a week, so that cancels out most of the bullshit things that have happened thus far.
Oh, right, the pictures. Aubrey was nice enough to leave me some peanut butter cookies in my mailbox at work. The kana says kue!, which is the Japanese way to tell someone to "eat this, you little bitch!" and you have to kick them when you say it. And these books, wow, I saw them all laying out on a table and I thought I'd take one of each for a good laugh. I said to myself, 'This is the garbage we feed people,' and then realized that each one could somehow be relevant to me. Shit. 5.13.04/22:10 ten kinds of nasty
[don't love you - nicotine fist] 1.6 MB .wma file
Oh yes, I almost forgot to tell you. I went to the Ohio today to do some Nicotine Fist songs with the Crazy Matt. It went pretty well, and we've got a few copies of Kalentis that are now circulating about. The rest of the work on the design and stuff will probably take place this weekend. If you're all extra nice to me, I'll work on the new section on the website for said CD. I might do it even if you're mean to me. And here are the lyrics for the song up above this paragraph. 5.13.04/01:05 quotes from hagakure Among the maxims on Lord Naoshige's wall there was this one: "Matters of great concern should be treated lightly." Master Ittei commented, "Matters of small concern should be treated seriously."
There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.
A helmet is usually thought to be very heavy, but when one is attacking a castle or something similar, and arrows, bullets, large rocks, great pieces of wood and the like are coming down, it will not seem the least bit so.
When one has made a decision to kill a person, even if it will be very difficult to succeed by advancing straight ahead, it will not do to think about it in a long roundabout way. One's heart may slacken, he may miss his chance, and by and large there will be no success. The Way of the Samurai is one of immediacy, and it is best to dash in headlong.
Lord Naoshige said, "The way of the samurai is in desperateness. Ten men or more cannot kill such a man. Common sense will not accomplish great things. Simply become insane and desperate." One should be wary of talking on end about such subjects as learning, morality or folklore in front of elders or people of rank. It is disagreeable to listen to.
In the Kamigata area they have a sort of tiered lunchbox they use for a single day when flower viewing. Upon returning, they throw them away. The end is important in all things.
People who talk on and on about matters of little importance probably have some complaint in the back of their mind. But in order to be ambiguous and to hide this they repeat what they are saying over and over. To hear something like this causes doubt to arise in one's breast.
The late Jin'emon said that it is better not to bring up daughters. They are a blemish to the family name and a shame to the parents. The eldest daughter is special, but it is better to disregard the others. 5.12.04/04:00 basking in the streetlight For the past few nights, I've been walking 'round the old neighborhood at 3am. It's finally nice outside at night again. I plan to enjoy it. Like today, swinging with Megan in the creepy scary park in the dark. We went to see Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, and lamented at the unavailability of 24-chinese food restaurants in Pittsburgh.
And I think I'm starting to lose focus of this whole website thing. June 28th or 29th is the one-year-anniversary, and I think I'd better get my mopey ass in gear and start focusing more on content and less on my personal frustrations. Also, spellchecker is telling me mopey isn't a real word. Does that mean it's mine? I could swear it's a commonly used word... 5.10.04/22:52 diagnose me
the
gown ties in the back 5.8.04/16:58 lamenting at the front gate
It's the middle of
Saturday. Using my magical abilities, I'm phoning this one in. I've only
got 15 hours left to go, 15 hours until I can sleep for, um, 5 hours. It's
imperative that I call Sakai-san before 2pm tomorrow/today/Sunday, but my
Japanese is too poor for me to understand why.
[driving
to paducah] short story Just another day in Xanadu. 5.7.04/00:11 my beloved monster and me It's nights like these when I miss you the most. The moon is so very much like you, something tangible that always haunts me when I can't sleep, something I can almost reach out and grab, something I can see the little contours on, but something that will always be three hundred thousand miles away from me.
So I toss beneath these thin sheets, sweating in this damp basement. I'm haunted by you. Even when I think I can sleep, I snap upright, leaking from my pores and breathless. I'm sure it's not something you intended.
I walk under these streetlights, yellow like said moon, and they die abruptly, leaving me in darkness. It's only a 1.5 mile walk to the gas station, but it takes forever. Sure, I could drive, but who wants to risk that after all that's come to pass? Not I.
The farthest distance I could geographically be from you, 12,500 miles, still won't be enough. I'll just be walking in the hot summer night to a konbini instead of a gas station, still just as tortured and sleepless. But I'll do it anyways. That's the only respite I can imagine. It would take a year immersed in a foreign land to cleanse myself of you.
Whatever it takes, eh?
It shouldn't be this big of a deal. It should be as easy to sweep you from my mind as it is to wash off the grime of the crazy house, just a hot shower and a few knock knock shots should make me a happily adjusted little drone again.
But it doesn't.
I think this is how people go insane. They just stew in their memories until their thoughts come from a marinade of nostalgia and phantasmagoria. This torture is how writers are born. That's the only reason I endure it, because underneath all this suffering and strange behaviour, that's all I really want. I just want to purge you, exorcise you from my soul in 200 pages.
I keep praying for one of these pairs of headlights to careen off the bend in the road and wipe my slate clean. But they don't. They don't even slow down to acknowledge the lanky phantom in the yellow shirt and khakis. Bastards.
And probably later I will post a poem. 5.5.04/04:33 folk blues that are the real I finally got to see the last two episodes of Cowboy Bebop. I've seen like every other episode eleven times except for these two, because when it cycles to them on Adult Swim I always seem to have other more pressing things to do. Now that I've seen them, I'm finally a complete person.
So I've been fooling around with the tab for 'The Real Folk Blues' and I think I will soon be able to play it. Might take me like a week to become skilled at it, but after that I will probably post a cover of it or something. Guess we will just have to wait and see.
And you might be wondering what the hell is/was up with the index page for this site. 'Why would you make such a stupid thing?' you might be wondering. Here is the answer.
One time, I got some kind of weird virus that hijacked my computer every time I wanted to go to google.com and showed me this stupid search page instead. It was really frustrating, and had the same goofy search topics as those I included.
And here's a poem. 5.5.04/04:40 snapshot the tinge, the taste of you noxious enough to kill a small animal but it excites me
to gorge myself in a river of you suffocation between your legs a happy torment
strung upside down like st. peter waiting for your whips to crack a snapshot of sublimity 5.4.04/20:18 ten types of nasty I've been basically living at Western Psych these past four days. There's this creepy guy in a wheelchair that comes in every few weeks from Ohio. He keeps lying to me, telling me different addresses and telling me he hasn't eaten in two days and wants a sandwich. They tell me he does foul, foul things when he's on the floors.
And I keep having these terrible, terribly strange dreams where things are happening that are beyond my volition to change. You were in one, but I don't remember what you did or what your role was in that particular dream. I wake up in cold sweats, gasping for air and grasping for composure.
Today, I didn't do a goddamn thing. I slept until 3pm. I stomped on some arrows and finally passed some 6-foot standard songs. Still not zyoozu, but closer. April called me out of the blue to invite me to Ted's birthday party tomorrow. I have no clue why. She said I can drink free booze and don't have to bring a present.
April is freaking crazy.
She's just one of the girls I haven't talked to in two months. I'm trying to curb my list of acquaintances, but it's harder than I thought it would be. How was it so easy for you to just throw me away?
Next month will mark the 1-year anniversary of the founding of peachycomics.com. Hard to believe it's been a whole year. And it seems April is missing 10 days in the archives for some reason. I'm kind of sad about that, since I really liked those 10 days.
Shikata ga nai. 5.2.04/09:11 fusion it's just a sluice the light that travelled ninety-three million miles to pierce my wooden blinds
from the core of the sun past comets and asteroids its path, according to Einstein, slightly distorted by Mercury and Venus
this light has undergone an odyssey just so a small rectangular swath of it can light up your drowsy face next to mine on this pillow 5.1.04/20:18 non-stop good times That's all these past few days have been, really. Just all sorts of randomly fun events coming one after another. Tomorrow, instead of sleeping, I'm going to Ohio to jam with Crazy Matt and Dirt. Maybe we'll get some work done.
And this poem below this post. I wrote it like three years ago. It was all about Heather, that dim, dim girl with the braces who I was all about for maybe a month. I think I did my best work that summer, and this article might explain why. According to that, poets die younger than other of writers.
Not uncoincidentally, I think I'm going to focus more on short stories, if only to help my longevity a bit. I started writing one last night that has gotten way out of hand and may not even be postable. It's just so...foul. So, so foul. 5.1.04/20:16 gipeddo
I
like to be 5.1.04/02:28 duty + place (nihongo de) In Japanese, there are two words which sound similar, have a similar writing, and I find these particular words very interesting. The one on the left is keimusyo (jail), and the right is zimusyo (office). I'm mentioning this because I have to work a double tomorrow and to me my office is very, very much like a prison.
Yeah. And I saw Jersey Girl today. I'm not quite sure what to think about it. I mean, there were some things I really liked about it: Liv Tyler is hot, Ben Affleck used to not be such a tool, and J-Lo dies. Plus, any movie with George Carlin is pretty much good no matter what. No Jay and Silent Bob, though. Can't say I'm not disappointed about that.
5.1.04/00:00 starting the new month early
This picture is what's left of a branch that was getting in my way when I was cutting the grass yesterday. Grandma came out and yelled at me for cutting all the dangly branches with my sword. I consider any branch within swinging distance to be a nuisance, so it's no wonder she was yelling at me. Ha, good times.
And this, of course, is another example of just how hillbillyish Shelbyville, Indiana is becoming. This is a Ford Mustang Police car. Just in case you ever need to challenge a police officer to a drag race to get out of a ticket. Or something. I don't really understand how or why something like this is necessary to fight crime, but that's just me.
This is the piano lady at the Greenwood Mall that me and Chelsea bribed to play the Peanuts theme song for us. She kept trying to explain to me the chords and the notes, and I kept trying to tell her that it's different on a guitar and that I don't really know anything about pianos. Though I should learn sometime.
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There are certain rules to
time deprivation, if you want to be successful at it. The first is
to not watch TV. You will find that knowing when shows come on and
watching what's on is a kind of indicator of time. Another thing is
to blur your eyes at certain times when looking at clocks is unavoidable,
like checking your cell phone for messages. Today was a good day for
this experiment, since the sun wasn't out to clue me in.
