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i am a wolf but i like to wear sheeps clothing
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Dec 23, 2006 10:25 pm
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been away for a while, only able to check in and browse for a few minutes here and there. but now, in true psycho fashion, i'm back with a straight razor and a straight jacket, foaming with excitement.
frothing. i should have said frothing.
i know the response to this before i even i post, so save your soliloquy for someone who respects traditional perceptions and methodologies.
to put it bluntly, i would like to steal someone's boyfriend.
to my credit, the boyfriend started it. he hit on me, he tracked me down, he made the effort. he has hinted, and i have acknowledged. he has put his hand in inappropriate places at the most appropriate times, and he has done everything but get down on his knees and follow up on his veiled promises.
i don't want this boyfriend to be my boyfriend, i just want him to make good on the fiendish designs behind his eyes.
i'm not here to ask for advice. that's not what this is for. i am here to state that honestly the thought doesn't even make my conscience twinge. have i finally evolved from awkward bad thing to pretty evil thing? i would like to think so.
as one of my creations, a smart old boy by the name of jason, is fond of saying:
just another step on the road to the end
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without you, i am revoloutions of ruin
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Dec 14, 2006 11:36 pm
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flipping through the middle section of only revoloutions today. for those of you who haven't heard of this wicked creation or haven't heard enough, its a 'novel' that tells a story from two perspectives, written in a disjointed verse, and that every 8 pages you turn the book upside down and read the other side of the story. its a love story basically, cataclysmic and raw with all the fire of two teenagers out to destroy the world, or create one of their own.
regardless, i love the book.
i want to feel that fire again, and i alluded to that in my last post.
sometimes i go through these apathetic phases. i become cruel and distant to the ones i love and enigmatic and untouchable to those that i possibly could. maybe its this time of year, with my years old curses of tim and dave come to kill my emotions just as they did so long ago. the only passions are in the novels i read or in the words that i write, or the melodramitc crazy soap that i can't believe i watch every day but do it anyway because its just too damn fun.
sam says i will never leave you, reflected in hailey's eyes at one point. i want that.
i do think its that time of year, the end of the cycle where all of us tend to step back and take a look at ourselves and our 12 months of missteps and mistakes. its not like i couldn't walk 3 blocks and get laid fantastically, or ask one of about 5 people i know that would be interested to go on a 'date' tomorrow afternoon. i just miss passion. i write about it on my other blog in the form of fractured fables and apocalyptic prose in my fiction, or in the scathing commentary of my opinions i post there too.
another friend says it best. i'm a passionate person with nothing to be passionate about right now.
oh well. on a lighter note. if anyone is interested, like i said i do write fiction and have been revising and altering some of my stuff lately too. if you like disturbing imagery and fantastic themes, let me know and i'll share. its not like its published or anything and i'd always be willing to hear an opinion.
maybe i just need to listen to happy music.
thats when i realize i don't own any lol.
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i've got a 35 minute drive and a bag full of bruises
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Dec 14, 2006 8:46 pm
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so, he says to me, 'lick my tongue'.
betrayal is a funny thing. is betrayal enjoying the company of a mutually sworn enemy? or is betrayal a thought crime of the highest nature, the mere passing chance of impending brutality causing salivation and wicked grins?
when i spent time with the glamorous widget this week i felt treacherous. he is not mine to admire, not mine to desire, yet i enjoy his company, and enjoy the insanity that seems to follow him like dust balls behind a tuscon bound ford thunderbird.
when i'm around the widget i just can't help but feeling bad, feeling as if i have broken some trust by merely being in his presence and laughing with him in a casual way. there is no sex there. nothing of the sort. i sorta like my fun to be at least taller than my belly button. but one of the people closest to me loves him, and has lost him forever, and my closeness to that wicked little fun thing at the same time thrills me and shames me.
i know i shouldn't feel guilty for the demise of others relationships, but i can't help but feel like a salt lick prying open this wound yet again.
maybe its my usual policy of staying away from the train wrecks of others relationships, or hiding away the tragedy of my own. yet i figure, that most of us being in our late 20's or so, that we have gone beyond the petty intricacies of the schoolboy crush.
speaking of....
why don't i have a crush. this is a very hollow sensation, not having someone to blame my emotional failings on this week. very strange indeed....
i wish one of the choices for mood was cryptic...
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there's blood on my shoes
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Dec 11, 2006 2:35 pm
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well. i exposed all of you to the drunk psycho post there. expect some of those every once in a while. its fun!
last night i fell asleep about 5pm, woke up at 2am, then again at 8am, then again at 1pm. no memorable dreams. i felt as if my body was in complete shutdown, as well it should have been after the misadventures and misgivings of the past week.
my phone lays on my table with 14 missed calls the last i looked. granted some of them are from nasty bill collectors, who, with no assault to their indian heritage, speak some unintelligible mix of english and ozark that makes me wonder if their corporate language instructors graduated from ma and pa billet's redneck finishing school. one said y'all to me. ever heard someone with an east indian accent try to say y'all? frightening.
now, i sit and try to avoid a friend, some would call him my best friend, as he tries incessantly to call me and drag me down to happy hour. this morning he called at least six times (14 missed calls, 4 bill collectors, 6 drunk friend, leaves 4 from obsessed fans/ my parents). during the vm for each call i could hear his gradual descent into inebriation. lets see, it goes from hey bro to whatup to hey bitch to fucker and now its on to some garbled drunk mess just saying call me and hangs up.
now i'm no stranger to getting drunk in the morning. used to go to one bar at 8am like clockwork for a while when i was independently wealthy (kept). but that has now evolved into a once in a while occasion, usually associated with an all nighter ending at the bar at 8a. but now even getting a drink before 4pm on a normal day just feels wrong to me (sunday afternoon football parties excepted).
then the question pops up. am i avoiding the alcohol, or am i avoiding him, his very presence. i'm not sure which. known the guy for years but at times i just want to strangle him, to shake some sense into him. i haven't actually seen him in person since last week and have not missed him, actually not even really thought about him unless someone else has brought up his name. maeks me start to think.. am i finally getting tired of a person that has been in my life for the past 20 years? is it time to move on?
once again i overanalyse things, my desire to be a hermit today evolving into a questioning of my relationships and my life as i live it.
i think that upon my death my brain should be extracted and used for preventative research, so that the aliens that biogenetically altered me in my mothers womb know what not to do in the future.
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a man of his word
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Dec 10, 2006 1:37 am
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duplicity.
its a concept i have studied quite often.
my own duality is all in all quite puzzling.
and now i stop, because i realize that i am thinking these wonderfully philosophical thoughts as i type and, between words, shove taco bell into my cocksucker.
just wanted to let you all know... schnockered. you heard it here.... first.
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crawling through windowells
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Dec 9, 2006 5:05 pm
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breathe in
sobriety post aside, i have this sneaking creepy suspicion that i am going to get bombed out of my gord tonight. call it intuition. call it divine intervention.
call it i want a blowjob.
is it sad when all your friends work at a bar? i mean sure they serve you drinks, and only charge you half of the time so thats a bonus. but honestly i have a good time with those boys. they put a smile on my face before the blitz settles in and then keep it going. i don't think i end up closing the bar because of the booze, because honestly there are times when i don't have a drink for 2 hours. i think i stay there because i am going to miss that one magic moment when everything is perfect and we all look at each other and just say 'wow, it's been a good day'.
i miss feeling like that. i miss having that warm support. i miss playing nhl 99 and acting like i didn't know how to play and then kicking everyone's ass and winning the tourney. i miss diablo 2. i miss mirrorshades and broomsticks. i miss orgotek. i miss the dark symmetry. i miss chasing the dog out to the lake. i miss frankenkitty. i miss p's foot rubs. i miss mushroom pizza. i miss the carnivorous beanbag. i miss the 4-9 amusement hour. i miss the tower and the barrel of beer. i miss the sprinkler and the shopping cart. i miss poe on the roof. i miss elevators and head bumps. i miss four rooms and squares. i miss turtle blood and hair parties.
i think that i have wiped my past clean so many times that it comes rushing back with much more force as i get older. faces and regrets and downright lies stare at me and accuse and judge and belittle.
i want them all back, and i don't even know if that is possible.
so like i said... there is a pretty good chance that someone is getting schnockered tonight, and i'll give you one guess who that is.
addiction didn't create this alcoholic.
regret did.
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the color of the blood on my lips... shiseido red
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Dec 8, 2006 3:08 pm
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so today i fought the good fight, the blood of my enemies on my hands and lips as i strode victoriously home through the winter chill, a smile on my face.
actually it was cold and my face had frozen into a smile resembling that creepy botox cat lady in new york.
sure, i was sent home from work for playing hookey yesterday, a days suspension my punishment for missing a day of work when i haven't even had so much of a black mark on my record. well, at least not for the past 4 months.
now, for those of you who are unindoctrinated in the fine art of the mental health day, let me give you some pointers. i call it
THE ROVE METHOD
1. the war on terror rule : when making up an excuse, make sure it is plausible but hard to authenticate. things like 'my grandmother died' can be researched by a vengeful coworker or nasty employer in only a matter of minutes online and can potentially cost you your job if they are proven to be false. for example, my excuse was a car accident on the way to work. yesterday i got a flat tire, then the spare blew out as well. sure i live within walking distance but it was butt cold. now that is technically a car accident, i just happened to add to the implication that there was another car involved by my omission of the circumstances behind the accident, which also leads to the next point.
2. the bush administration rule: do not go into detail about the circumstances unless asked, and even then be as vague and ambiguous as possible. to fix the dead grandmother problem above usually a simple change of syntax can cover your ass (i.e. dead grandmother becomes a death in the family). in my situation, i said it happened 5 minutes away from work, which is actually how long it takes to drive to work from my house so technically i gave up the location, but at the same time that gives me a good 12 block radius to work with in case questions come up later.
3. the wmd conspiracy rule: have an unrelated third party involved who can corraborrate your story while also absolving you of any wrongdoing. by using a 'patsy' unknown to your employer or co-workers as a witness there is an added level of credibility, yet still unverifiable by your potentional detractors and accusers. through, once again, ambiguous language, i suddenly wasn't the driver during said accident, but my roommate was. therefore any police involvement or documentation no longer is my responsibility and legally i have no right to take that paperwork to work to 'prove' my story. and in my situation i can always say that my roommate handed over the paperwork to their insurance company and didn't make copies.
and finally...
4. the rumsfeld rule: if even after following the preceding methods there still appears to be doubt on your intended audience DENY DENY DENY. Create a cloud of confusion supported by unrelated subjects and subtle jabs at their moral character that turns them from the agressor to the defender. use subtext to poke at their moral character, to capitalize on their fears and to ultimately cast enough doubt to make them even question why they were questioning you in the first place. this tactic can should only be used as a last resort for it requires a lot of follow up and makes your actual transgression appear paltry if your true intentions are uncovered.
hope that helps any potential truants in the audience.
questions? comments?
take it up with my press secretary.
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you're wrong
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Dec 7, 2006 10:17 am
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so this is another place for me to ramble on. hmmm.... consolidation is just not for me!
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To link to this blog (angrypsycho77) use [blog angrypsycho77] in your messages.
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