ellipsis

it’s dark, and canvas hangs on the walls. some beat up wooden and steel chairs loiter underneath. greasy hair curls in great quantity over cotton and polyester and all of the worn converse sneakers in the room speak to me in unison. they plead for assisted suicide. as i glance down, my three hundred dollar jeans seem slightly at odds with my seven dollar t-shirt and the forty ounce malt liquor in my hand. i sip slowly, as if i were savoring the bitterness. glances occasionally land on me but i pay them no mind. i only break from my trance when a girl asks to sip my drink. i reluctantly agree, deciding that art would have done the same were he here. it is a monday.

nothing (just one thing) on our minds

wednesday was the big meet-up among wandering friends, drawn back to the lead core of this radioactive city. i am not victor ward was there along with a girl who was certainly not chloe byrnes. the early part of the evening was spent drinking college-flavored rolling rock, with a gradual move to home-flavored mid-label scotch. i spent the night wandering, in search of something that wasn’t clear to me. first i followed the friends, then i followed rebecca. eventually i followed my conscience, and still the experience wasn’t quite right. passing out was a blessing, like an abrupt stop to a long train of thoughts going in circles.

meds

during my daily spiritual self reflection yesterday i pondered my current status in life. the “cool down” side of whitney houston’s greatest hits double album steered my meditation toward the social aspect. questions such as “why is it that i know many people but few if any know me?” and “what is love?” were thrown out by my subconscious. these musings led me back to a single thought, though. what is it that i am looking for? the best answer i could come up with clunkily follows: a man/woman who is an amalgamation of bodhi from point break, jane from the mysteries of pittsburgh, and jem from jem and the holograms, who is both spontaneous and fleet footed, and who can out drink me in a showdown.

the rest of the session was spent meditating on the true meaning of winter.

this and that

the difference between loneliness and freedom is mostly semantics. in fact, the two are mutually inclusive. i’ve experienced this in different levels, most recently in its purest form. it has allowed me to both wallow in the past continuously and listen to basement jaxx records while i drink diet rockstar and gin and complete sudoku after sudoku puzzle. naked. i am unsure at which level i prefer my loneliness. perhaps lower than now, but certainly never gone.

snap

i’ve lost it. i mean, i still have sanity in some capacity, but priorities have changed and closets have been cleaned. i no longer apologize for trimming my shrubs in a way that violates the homeowner’s association’s by-laws. i revel in being alone, and look adversity in the eye. he is the kind of guy you want to drink with and then beat up. i no longer fear death. i fear only thread timers in symbolic debuggers.

workaday

i spent a good chunk of this sabbath working at the office. as i was the only one there, i played some profane jams out loud and got hyphy in the halls. whenever my progress was halted by either fate or my own lack of intelligence i jogged around the building singing call-and-answer army chants. somehow time flew by in this manner; type, type, sing, sing, dance, type. in the end, however, i got the result i had been working toward for three weeks. whether it was isolation of the empty office or the cardio workout breaks that were responsible i can only guess. what is not in question, though, is that i pulled an eriq lasalle-in-e.r.-like punch of satisfaction move when i reached my goal.

winding

…and then i go out to the parking lot to find the vehicle adjacent to mine on the right is parked like four inches from my car. parking asymmetrically makes baby jesus cry. as i head home for another night of sudoku and coke blak, i consider how great it is that i can roll my window down in november. the semi-warmth of the evening dulls the urge to close my eyes and drive blind on straight stretches of road. owen’s harsh lyrics juxtaposed with his softie-like voice bring a smile to my face as i listen to “bad news”. as the world gets darker, everyone else’s headlights grow stronger but mine…

genesis reunion tour!

break out the champagne. although, i am a bit worried due to statements like this:

”Genesis has another side to it, a more complex area of music," he said.

i never really understood any of their work before nineteen eighty’s duke. it was too arty, too... intellectual. they had just better play "invisible touch".

increase my killing power, eh? let’s do it!

i have begun a cycle of creatine monohydrate in order to gain muscle that i lost when my shoulder broke. this compound is amazing, in that after three days on it i’ve already noticed marked improvement in my weight training. it also looks like coke, so i’ve been taking it to work in baggies and leaving it out on my desk to arouse suspicion. no one has asked me to sell them any yet, though, so i’m starting to regret cutting it with nutri-sweet.

losing the corpus

i attended a celebratory gathering in the late afternoon yesterday. as is almost always the case, the discussion around me devolved into booze and real estate. apparently, while my liquor collection is gaining value, my house is stagnant. i don’t even try to talk about music anymore as it is about as productive as having a discussion about which religion is the correct one (scientology). more disturbing, though, is that i was barely participating in the conversation. it seems my mere presence has begun to affect people, and my devil-may-care attitude and cock-sure stride may soon infect others.